


Triple Trouble

by E4mj



Series: Triple Trouble [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Lord Harry Potter, Dark!Harry, Debaunched!Harry, Gellert's POV, Harry's POV, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Psychopath!tom, Revolutionist!Gellert, Time Travel, Tom's POV, Young Gellert Grindelwald, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E4mj/pseuds/E4mj
Summary: Dumbledore would regret the decision to hand over the school letters to the house elves, even if it did save him hours in admin. Eleven year old Harry Potter was expected... Tom Riddle and Gellert Grindelwald... yeah, not so much. However that might turn out to be the least of the school's problems.





	1. Letter...s

To Mr. H Potter  
The Cupboard Under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little whinging, Surrey  
  
_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_  
  
_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_  
_Dear Mr. Potter,_  
_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._  
_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Minerva McGonagall_  
_Deputy Headmistres_ s  
  
Harry's hands shook in either rage or amusement, he wasn't too sure which. He had been forcibly woken this morning by his Aunt Petunia's screeching. Even so, he hadn't quite believed it. He had died... But he was back. Harry absently tossed the letter down on the table and dug through the side table to find appropriate paper to reply with. Vernon made a sort of aborted whimper as Harry picked out the man's best pen to reply. Harry purposely pressed too hard, damaging the nib. Other than the scratching of the fountain pen, the kitchen remained silent. With a flourish Harry signed his name and walked over to the back door opening it and looking expectantly at the sky. A moment later one of the Hogwarts owls dislodged itself from the tree it had been waiting in and flew down to collect the reply.  
"Come, Vernon. I wish you to drive me to London."  
Harry's uncle went from dark red to a violent shade of purple. Harry smirked, and wiggled his fingers, causing Dudley to start spinning on the spot, where he was hanging upside down from invisible strings in the air. He looked like he wanted to scream. Silencing charms were so _handy_.  
"If you're good, I'll let them down when we return." Harry added. On the ceiling next to him, Petunia whimpered. Harry hadn't silenced the elder Dursleys, just told them if they made too much noise then Dudley would never make any noise ever again.  
Diagon alley… Harry hadn't been there in decades. Harry didn't have his Gringotts key yet, but _that_ wasn't going to stop him. He was feeling vindictive, and this time around _Vernon_ would pay for his first year gear. Harry had already summoned the man's wallet and emptied it. After all, Vernon wouldn't need any money while waiting all day in the car. Besides, it may _seem_ like decades ago to Harry that Dudley had spent the day before prodding him with his smelting stick, but Harry's eleven year old body still had the bruises from 'yesterday'.  
The smirk on Harry's lips widened. _This time_ things would be _very_ different.  
  


* * *

  
To Mr T Riddle  
The Attic room at St Peter's orphanage  
384 Gleebson Rd  
Hartlepool, Durham  
  
_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_  
  
_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_  
_Dear Mr. Riddle,_  
_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._  
_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Minerva McGonagall_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
  
Oh this was _precious_. Tom had been mildly horrified to wake up in his eleven year old body, but seeing as he had been _dead_ just moments earlier, he had soon got over any squeamishness. The only problem being that he clearly didn't have any horcruxes (he _still_ couldn't believe the Potter brat had managed to find them all!) and when he had accosted his roommate to exterminate it for just such a ritual, Tom's very being (Tom _supposed_ you could call it his soul) had struggled with everything it had and the boy survived (though even after a memory charm he had immediately begged to sleep on the floor in the next room over, rather than stay with Tom).  
The majority of Tom had been locked in cold lonely objects for decades and apparently had no interest in being separated from his body again. It was utterly frustrating. In the mean time Tom had tied his life to seven of his fellow orphans so he had some protection, though it was minimal as it was slowly draining them and would probably only last a year or two before they perished. But really, Tom wasn't some weak eleven year old, even if his body looked it. He didn't remember much of the previous eleven years this body had lived, but he was familiar with malnutrition, and with the scars dotting his arms from cigarette burns. When the teenage blonde muggle and his six followers stinking of smokes had turned up to torment Tom that morning while the matron was distracted, they had not been prepared for a fully fuming Dark Lord. even without his wand he was still more than capable enough to incapacitate them.  
But Tom was being distracted.  
His eyes fell back on the parchment, then flicked to a calendar with insipid puppies hanging above his (ex-)roommates bed. It was summer of '91 and for a moment Tom contemplated whether or not it was worth the risk of going to Hogwarts. He had protection from any of the more deadly of the old man's plots for at least this year, and both Potter and the Philosophers stone would be conveniently in one place. Practically tied up with a bow ready and waiting for Tom to steal/annihilate them.  
Yes.  
With a decisive nod Tom stalked over to the tiny window and opened it. While he waited for the Hogwarts owl he penned a carefully worded response. The letter's ink was in purple not green, so Ravenclaw's Quill had included him on the list of those that didn't need a staff introduction, which was something at least. Mcgonagall couldn't have read the names when she was signing the pile (otherwise no doubt half of the Light-side would have stormed the orphanage) and when she received Tom's reply Hogwarts' magic would accept him and there would be nothing that they could (legally) do. Perhaps he would amuse himself and toy with them for a little while. There would be no proof, after all, that Tom Riddle was anything more than an unfortunately named eleven year old. Perhaps his past didn't even exist here? Hell, Tom was still tossing up between time travel and an alternate universe. Though the second seemed more likely as he had _died_ first.  
Merlin but he wanted to throttle the Potter brat!  
  


* * *

  
To Mr G Grindelwald  
Room 9 at Pickleberry Field Orphanage  
1 Hillside Lane  
Doorchester, Dorset  
  
_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_  
  
_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_  
_Dear Mr. Grindelwald,_  
_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._  
_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Minerva McGonagall_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
  
Gellert was fully fluent in English, but it had been such a long time since he'd had anything to read, in any language, that it took him far longer than he would like to admit, to register even the address. Then he had got stuck on the second line of the letter. _Albus bloody Dumbledore!_ Gellert glared at the letter, then at the owl that was now perched on a low branch of the bush Gellert was concealed behind.  
  
In his time as a Dark Lord Gellert had experienced some odd things. He had always _terrible_ luck with rituals. They never _hurt_ him, however they often didn't do exactly what he expected. He had once spent a full two weeks as some sort of fish-centuar hybrid when trying to gain _mage-sight_.  
But this took the cake.  
He was eleven. And he was _free_! Gods but he was never building a inescapable prison _ever_ again! It was rather sad when an upstart Dark Lord coming to raid your mind and kill you was a _welcome_ distraction.  
  
Much to the orphanage staff's dismay Gellert had spent the majority of the morning flitting around the small adjacent park like some crazy animal. But Gellert didn't care. He had spent a good ten minutes rubbing his face against the freshly cut grass.  
Fortunately he had come enough to his senses to do some quick wandless compulsions. The staff had been taking turns warily following him around while the rest of them held a panicked meeting about one of their charges going stark raving mad overnight. It wasn't like Gellert _cared_ , they were just muggle filth, but he had put his foot down the moment they mentioned sending him to some asylum. He would _not_ be being locked up.  
Eventually, some time in the late afternoon (and safe from insipid staff breakdowns, now they were under permanent compulsions to prioritise other things) Gellert finally realised he had also been stalked all day by a large barn owl. Then any remaining sanity he could lay claim to left him as he realised that he had received an invitation to Albus _bloody_ Dumbledore's school!  
After Gellert calmed down from a slightly hysterical laughing fit he had re-read the letter with some more rational thought.  
Clearly something odd was going on here. Albus was dead. Hell, come to think of it, _Gellert_ was dead. So after calming down a little Gellert had delved into his ritual-enhanced mindscape (which he had achieved when he had been trying to gain the ability to fly) and searched out the memory of death. He _had_ died, but the death-magic he had felt then was still tingling lightly on his skin when he woke up that morning too. Clearly Death (the entity) had something to do with this, and frankly, Gellert was _delighted_. unlike the majority of Dark Lords throughout history Gellert had little interest in avoiding death beyond a reasonable lifetime. No he wanted to work _with_ Death… preferably for an eternity. He had actually begun studying as a Necromancer but one of the first rituals botched itself and made the option impossible, so he had resigned himself to planning muggle domination and genocide instead.  
But _this_ appeared to be a gift from Death.  
What is more, so long as the rest of this universe was in line with the original one, Albus _bloody_ Dumbledore had _his_ wand. And the old fool had invited him to his school. Or at least, Gellert had received an invitation which (if Hogwarts was anything like Durmstrang) once initiated couldn't be withdrawn. Hogwarts always _had_ been rather liberal. Gellert supposed that they must just have an automatic duplication charm on the school letters meaning their was _no_ discrimination against letting the mudbloods into the school. Urgh! There was a reason Gellert hadn't attended Hogwarts after being expelled from Durmstrang. But _still_ , this was just too much of an opportunity to pass over.  
The Elder Wand was at Hogwarts, so to Hogwarts Gellert would go. And if that just so happened to open up the perfect opportunity for taunting his ex-lover, _well_.  
Jauntily Gellert signed the acceptance reply and handed it to the owl that had been hovering around him. The owl flew off and Gellert toasted the sky with an invisible glass.  
"To Albus _bloody_ Dumbledore… may he enjoy _my_ wand while he still has it."


	2. All sorted

 

Tom arrived at Platform nine and three quarters early, not wanting the opportunity for anything to come up that might get in the way of his going. He had stayed in London the night before in the magical section of a Hilton Hotel. Far less likely that someone might see him there than at one in Diagon, and liberating the orphanage nurse of her wallet, and the pin number to her silly little plastic card from her mind had been nothing. He had worn a glamour around Diagon to do his shopping, with only two glitches. The first was that the Goblins had been uncooperative. He _would_ be able to access his old accounts, as his blood _was_ the same, but only once he provided either his wand, his key, or waited the six month period filling out various paper work to sort it out. It was utterly _frustrating_. At least the orphan fund was a lot better in this time period. Plus he knew where to get bargains, and had skipped a lot of things that he knew could be found easily enough at Hogwarts.

The biggest glitch, however, was Ollivander. He had actually been hoping, if he were honest with himself, that he might have got Potter's wand before Potter could, but Potter had apparently already been. Also, Ollivander knew him. Fortunately, the man had been stupid enough not to say anything until _after_ handing Tom a wand. It wasn't _his_ wand, or even a wand that particularly _liked_ him, but like he had told more than a few people in the previous incarnation whilst looking for the Death Stick, _he_ did great things, regardless of the wand. It had been annoying that the wand didn't fit him, but he got by.

He obliviated Ollivander, but _also_ forced him into a vow to keep the trip to himself. Eventually he got a Yew wand again, this time unicorn- _blood_ core, an illegal wand, actually, though Ollivander (rightfully) didn't think he would care about that. Owning the wand wasn't illegal, just selling it. Tom was quite pleased with that - more _insurance_ for the unlikely case that both his memory charm and the vow both failed. Apparently Ollivander experimented on the sly. Hypocritical Light fools.

 

 

There were only a few other students on the platform with their families, being only just past nine, so Tom made his way to a compartment. He headed to the section most Slytherin's usually did, intending to get his old compartment; three from the end of the second carriage. Abraxus had actually _enchanted_ the seats in it to be ridiculously comfortable and to recline, if one knew the password, and Tom himself had carved Runes into the frame for privacy. His younger Death Eaters had confirmed the magic still existed in their time, so he presumed it still would now.

However, Tom walked down the carriage, only to pause having passed a boy in the second compartment. The boy was blonde, and quite good looking, he was already wearing Hogwarts robes, though they were clearly individually tailored, and not quite in the right style. Closer to duelling robes. He was looking out the window and minding his own business.

Tom stood in the hallway, quite still. Because the boy looked an awful lot like… but, no. He was…

Tom gripped the handle of his trunk hard, and thought. He hadn't considered the fact that other people might be included in whatever this was. It was _not_ a pleasant thought. With a sharp nod, Tom turned his trunk, and made his way back to the boy's compartment, knocking sharply on the glass.

"Would you mind if I join you? You are a first year too, I assume?"

The blonde boy had still been staring strangely out the window, looking up at the sky, for reasons Tom couldn't fathom. He startled slightly at the knock, although Tom got the impression that was put on more than true surprise.

"What? Oh, yes, yes. Come in. I hear making friends is tradition on the train to Hogwarts. Strange, they just floo or portkey to Durmstrang." his accent was German, and thick.

"I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle, by the way." Tom offered, forcibly controlling the twitch at having to use his first name.

"Oh, you can call me Gel, for now. Has your family always gone to Hogwarts?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not a mud-ggleborn?" Damn it. He would actually have to mind his words again, how utterly _frustrating_.

'Gel' kept an amiable face, and settled back into his seat further. "Your magic feels trained, you are wearing robes in traditional fashion, not the current rubbish - _really_ those baggy designs are down right _dangerous_. What if I decide to duel someone in the halls, they will likely get caught in their voluminous robe-sleeves! Finally, your middle name is blatantly a wizarding name. Unless you _are_ a-"

" _No_." Tom interrupted, sharply. Internally he winced some. Really, he hadn't had to watch his language or tone for _decades_. If someone took insult to it, he would crucio them until they realised the error of their ways and moved on. It was very practical. Still, he supposed there were always undetectable hexes if things got dire.

Apparently 'Gel' was quite unflappable, however, as he had gone back to looking up and out the window. Tom glanced there himself, but all he could see was sky, so he didn't know what was _wrong_ with the boy.

"You have a German accent." Tom commented. "Your family isn't from England?"

'Gel' practically had his nose pressed against the glass, and didn't turn away to reply. "They _are_ , actually, though I was raised in- … no, wait. I was raised here too, come to think of it. But Germany was home for a long time."

That ambiguous statement confirmed it for Tom. This was Gellert Grindelwald.

Tom scowled at the floor. This complicated things.

 

They didn't say much over the next hour or so, Gellert was fascinated by … something … outside, and Tom was staring at an open book, while his mind wandered. Plotting, if he were honest. Did that mean it was just he and Grindelwald? Was it just Dark Lords? Or would he find others shoved into their younger bodies out of time? Was this even the same universe? Certainly Ollivander knew who Tom Riddle was.

It got busier the closer it got to eleven. Tom very nearly cursed some joyfully screaming Hufflepuffs who were running amok up and down the hall. Fortunately (for them), Gellert dragged his nose away from the glass long enough to cast a silencing ward over their door before Tom's patience snapped.

"Thank you."

"Mm, they are were a bit loud, and clearly dull."

"Something about a acromantula, apparently." Tom added, he'd overheard a girl squealing about it. Urgh! _Children_. Maybe Tom would unleash the Basilisk on them again, just for kicks.

Gellert visibly perked up at the thought of the large spider. "As a pet? How lovely."

Tom pointedly didn't comment. _Lovely_?! Tom began to wonder if all that time locked up hadn't meddled with Grindelwald's brain… then again, he had been friends with Dumbledore _before_ that, so possibly he wasn't all there to begin with?

 

Before Tom could decide whether to try and make an excuse to leave, as watching a rival Dark Lord was turning out to be rather a lot duller than he ever could have imagined, two things happened. The first was that Potter's bunch of red-heads made a very _loud_ entrance onto the platform outside. And the second was that a large explosion on the same end of the platform quickly followed them.

Sadly, it wasn't an _actual_ explosion, upon further observation.

"Wet-start fireworks, possibly combined with Dungbombs." Gellert commented from next to him, they were both peering out the window now at the chaos. "Someone will be unpopular with their parents."

Tom opened his mouth to comment himself, when there was a knock on their door.

Gellert didn't look away from the window, but Tom did.

 

 _Potter_.

 

Tom's hand twitched towards his wand.

Potter, rude or ignorant as always, simply made his way into their compartment, and pushed his (unusually small?) trunk under the seat, rather than put it on the rack. Tom's eyebrow twitched. Surely he wouldn't get in _that_ much trouble for a crucio or two? It wasn't like he couldn't break out of Azkaban anyway, if he was stupid enough to even stick around to get caught in the first place.

 _The Philosophers Stone_. Tom reminded himself forcibly.

"Can we help you?" Tom sneered.

Potter, the brat, smiled widely. _Naive_. Tom noted.

Wait.

On second thoughts, this could be _delightful_.

"Oh, I imagine you could." Potter said, his voice bubbly. Gellert startled again like he had for Tom, equally as fake. He turned and took in Potter, a frown forming as he noticed the muggle attire. Potter had his outer robes on, but was wearing black denim pants and a dark green muggle dress shirt, not the white uniform. "I'm Harry Potter, by the way." Potter added, with that _stupid_ crooked smile hanging off his lips.

Tom wanted to hit him.

"You can call me Gel, for now." Gellert offered again. Potter blinked owlishly, before the smile grew, then he turned to Tom.

"How about you?"

Tom hesitated, but then held out his hand, trying not to think of murder and torture as he forced his face into a kind looking smile. "I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Potter looked at Tom's hand as if the concept of shaking hands were foreign, but after a moment he took it. It tingled, slightly, but Potter made no outward sign that he was in pain.

"Well met." Potter cheerily offered. "Are you both first years?"

It was probably lucky that the compartment door opened again at that moment, because Tom was half considering the killing curse in response to a content Potter. Only Tom's disposition didn't improve, because if there was anyone _more_ annoying than Potter, it would have to be his Weasley. At least Potter put up a fairly decent (if inordinately lucky) fight, and his mudblood was intelligent enough that even Severus had been forced to acknowledge it (between insults). The youngest male Weasley wasn't _even_ loyal, if Barty's reports had been correct. Tom sneered.

"Do you mind if I sit here, everywhere else is full?"

Tom very much doubted that. Amusement overtook disgust, for a moment. He wondered if it were the boy himself who was plotting, or if someone had put him up to gluing himself to Potter from day one.

"Lie."

Tom startled slightly, though he didn't flinch externally. He had almost completely forgotten about Gellert. Potter was still smiling (Tom wanted to peel the skin off his cheeks until he was crying), but he didn't comment, merely looking curiously between Gellert and the Weasley.

Weasley spluttered. "Wha-, well, I mean..."

"Is it because Potter is famous? There is no one in the next compartment, for example."

Tom's attention snapped to Gellert. How would he know? There had been that comment about Tom's magic, too. Could Gellert _feel_ magical presence so easily? Tom ignored the Weasley spluttering to watch Gellert. He didn't even _seem_ like the Dark Lord type, to be honest, but then, Tom should have known better than to fall for a facade. Tom knew magical sensitivity could be increased through ritual, however, and he had never heard of a case of naturally spawned sensitivity. Unless it was Grindelwald family magics, though publicly that was strong Charm-work. Such a thing had never been _publicised_ , at least, about Lord Grindelwald.

 

"But I didn't know you _were_ Harry Potter!" The Weasley's whining broke Tom out of his musings, and he tuned back in. To his delight Potter had a sceptical look on his face, and Gellert was setting in to the Weasley. In truth, Tom suspected, the Weasley may have just been searching out other first years. But this situation was _delightful_.

"You ought to be wary, Potter," Tom whispered in Potter's ear, "You were raised by muggles, right? You probably don't realise just how famous you are, and just how _desperate_ that will make some people." The irony, if Tom could get Potter to _chose him_. Dumbledore's horror would be delightful, and Tom would get great enjoyment when he turned on Potter - he always _had_ enjoyed the look of betrayal on a victim's face. Then again, leading him on for years could be fun too.

Potter's had turned his head enough to show Tom he was listening, but he didn't make a comment.

" _Look_ , Weasel, this was-" Gellert said, breaking from his affable countenance for the first time.

"It's _Weasley_!"

"Ah, my apologies." He did not sound sincere. "Weasley. Regardless, this was _my_ compartment before it was Potter's, and frankly you were quite rude by not knocking, nor by starting introductions with a _lie_. I am afraid you aren't welcome here. But like I said, the next compartment is free."

The Weasley looked like he might explode, but managed to hold his temper, surprising Tom. He got in one parting shot, before he left, too.

"Look, I _didn't_ know who you were, Potter, but a little advise: be careful who you befriend, because _they_ obviously _did_ , and apparently don't like _sharing_." He slammed the door on the way out, making the glass rattle.

 

That, Tom decided with some glee, had gone _wonderfully_.

Gellert huffed. "I couldn't care less about you defeating that Dark Lord of yours, Potter. Just so you know. You were _one_."

Tom bristled at the label (he didn't _belong_ to Potter!), but then Potter shocked him out of it.

"Yeah, I assume it was something my parents set up. Besides, other than myself and Voldemort, no one else was _there_. Exactly how do they know what even happened? It's ridiculous."

"Huh." Gellert said, sounding surprised. Potter quirked an eyebrow at him in question. "I thought you were a little light-puppet, I didn't know those _came_ with opinions."

"They don't." Tom said, then looked at Potter startled, as he had said the same thing in unison. Potter looked amused, which pissed Tom off.

Beside's, he _had_ cast the killing curse at the Brat. And he _still_ didn't know what happened that night.

Which only pissed him off more.

 

Tom kept a light smile on his face, though, having decided that having Potter in his pocket before Dumbledore got his greasy hands on him could only help. Potter seemed _especially_ naive, though. He made kindly comments about the annoying Hufflepuffs running, and when Longbottom and Potter's mudblood came by looking for _a toad_ , he was overly helpful and kind.

It made Tom's skin crawl.

Potter bought Gellert and Tom both candy, too, which annoyed Tom, even if he _did_ like chocolate. Especially because his frog's card was _Albus Dumbledore_. He was _sure_ Potter had something to do with that.

 

But, despite the constant urges to hex Potter, and distrust of Gellert's friendly-facade, Tom thought the trip had gone fairly well.

Tom had just been feeling confident in his new plan to control Potter and disturb, then later kill, Dumbledore, when everything came crashing down… in a distinctly _Potter_ shaped way. The train had stopped, and Gellert was rummaging for his tie, while Tom was placing away the book he'd been reading. Potter went to leave without them, but paused at the doorway, and cleared his throat.

Tom only half turned at first, expecting some awkward we'll-still-be-friends Gryffindor comment. But then he caught sight of Potter's face. Gone was the cheery smile and kind disposition. Potter's eyes looked… well, _feral_ , and the smile could only ever be considered one thing. A smirk.

"It was a _pleasure_ riding with you." Potter _drawled_. (Drawled!). "I'll see you up at the castle then." He then nodded at them. "Lord Grindelwald, Lord Voldemort."

 

Tom's disintegration curse shattered the window of the door Potter had snapped shut behind him, and left a burnt smell in the air.

"Fucking _Potter_!" He snarled.

Beside him Gellert had let his smiling facade melt away too.

"Interesting. I thought your magic was awfully controlled and Dark. Did _you_ bring us back, then? It seems odd, as _you_ killed me."

Tom shot him an absolutely _filthy_ glare, then ripped the door open.

Maybe he would drown them _both_ in the boats.

 

* * *

 

Gellert watched the other Dark Lord stomp away furiously, with some amusement. This whole things was turning out to be utterly diverting! He had recognised Albus' little puppet, of course. News of someone surviving the killing curse reached even _his_ ears, including the famous scar.

He hadn't, obviously, recognised a young Voldemort. Funny, he always wondered why he'd never heard of the family 'Voldemort' before. Gellert made a note to ask Potter about it, presuming Riddle was as tetchy and close-mouthed as he seemed.

Then again, Potter's naive little behaviour had clearly been some sort of front. Presumably _he_ was back in his eleven year old self too. Actually, perhaps _he_ brought them all back… although why Potter would bring back his own Dark Lord (let alone Gellert) was equally as unclear as why Lord Voldemort might bring back Gellert… or Potter, come to think of it.

Gellert waved his wand at his trunk, shrinking it and putting it in his pocket, ignoring the announcement. He didn't trust Albus not to have a peek. He then tucked his hands in his pockets too, and cheerfully whistled as he made his way off the train.

 

It was a clear night out, and the bustling witches and wizards caused natural chaos on the platform. Conveniently, the staff(?) member who was sent to direct the first years was clearly part giant, and had a bellowing voice to match.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

Gellert stepped into the chaos, his magic easily clearing a path through the masses.

"You a firs' year?" The part-giant inquired.

"I am." So it seems, anyway.

"Excellent, there's a group of yers over there." The part giant pointed to where there was indeed a group of small children waiting. "We'll head down to the docks in a mo'."

Gellert nodded and made how way to the group. Riddle was standing at one end, or _lurking_ , perhaps would be a better term. Gellert contemplated causing a scene, but decided he would wait until the famed sorting ceremony. No need to give Albus or his staff a spoiler.

There was a scuffle in the middle section. It was the rude red-haired boy from before, who was easily spotted both by his hair and that he towered over nearly everyone else except perhaps Riddle, and a pale blonde boy, who had an impressive sneer on his face. Probably opposing sortings.

Gellert hummed to himself. Hogwarts was renowned for dividing it's student's up, and if things hadn't changed since Albus' time, which House one was sorted in to decided a ridiculously large portion of one's future prospects.

Riddle would go to Slytherin. Apart from the rumour that he was Slytherin's descendant, Gellert had also noted a green and silver scarf in Riddle's trunk. He was _fairly_ sure they were the colours associated with that house. It might be fun to follow Potter, undoubtedly to Gryffindor… but Gellert just _refused_ to be in Albus' old house. So Slytherin it would be. Gellert didn't know how they were divided up, but he was confident that he could place himself where he pleased.

 

Except that clearly Potter was _already_ stirring things up. As the platform cleared, the part-giant became quite distressed, as Potter was _not_ amongst them.

Riddle looked about ready to murder them all at the hold up, but curiously didn't say a word. Perhaps he, like Gellert, was planning on shocking Albus. Gellert pouted. Actually that _would_ shock him, too. How bothersome. He wanted Albus' attention. Maybe he could drown Riddle in the lake they were meant to be crossing.

Regardless, this was becoming tiresome. Gellert cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, professor!" Gellert gained the part-giant's attention. "Potter _was_ on the train. Perhaps he went up with the senior students. Regardless we should head to the castle and alert someone to search."

The part-giant was still quite distressed, but clearly agreed. He proceeded to set off at a brisk pace (which just about made the small eleven year olds need to run to keep up), shouting "This way then! Best hurry."

They scuttled after him down a slippery dark slope to the Black Lake's shoreline. Gellert accidentally found himself near Riddle again, but considering the death glare on the boy's face, Gellert slipped into a boat with four girls, blatantly ignoring the part-giant's "four to a boat" mandate. He was _quite_ sure he could keep the boat afloat if something happened. The girls put fourth _some_ complaint, but three of them were easy enough to charm into submission, and the fourth, that bushy-haired girl chasing the toad earlier, had no one to complain _to_.

She pouted something fierce though. Gellert decided he liked her.

 

"I can't _believe_ you've broken a school rule before we've even got to the castle! You'll lose house points before you're even _sorted_!"

"I wouldn't worry so much, m'dear, the boats obviously take the part-giant, so a fifth student would unlikely worry them. Besides, I can swim."

"Well so can _I_." She said, frowning. "But I should be very much put out if I had to get wet!"

"Well, we're half way there now."

She turned and looked then, and sucked in a sharp breath at the first sight of Hogwarts. She _was_ a magnificent castle, Hogwarts. Gellert had been quite impressed when he'd met up with Albus in Hogsmeade the first time he'd seen her. And sending the first years by boat _did_ show her off from the best vista.

The bushy haired girl was obviously awed too. "There are sixteen towers and one hundred and forty two stairways, over four thousand windows and-"

"Do you have an eidetic memory?" Gellert asked. Interrupting. There were rituals to steal that… then again, he might just as easily end up trapped in her mind or something equally as ridiculous, knowing him. Perhaps not.

The girl blushed, unaware of Gellert's plotting. "I'm on the spectrum. But I just love learning!"

"She _is_ a magnificent castle."

" _She_?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Hogwarts is a she. Mothering so many students over the years, I suppose. Not unusual in schools."

"But… but it's a _castle_!"

"Well, yes."

"Watch yer heads!" The half giant bellowed, distracting Gellert.

 

They headed in through a curtain of vines into an underground cave and dismounted from the boats. Gellert sought out Riddle, now drowning was fairly out of the question. Riddle was still wearing his scowl.

"Beautiful night. I guess Potter figured you'd murder him and took alternate routes."

"I'll murder _you_ if you don't quiet." Riddle scowled.

Gellert hummed cheerfully. "Well that would be unoriginal. Better to focus on Potter."

Gellert couldn't help but let out a snort when Riddle attempted to hex him in a rage, and further along the group an unfortunate boy let out a yelp of pain as Gellert dodged. "Touchy. _Did_ you ever kill him, just by the by?"

" _Yes_." Riddle gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Really? I got the impression he out-lasted you."

"He… _got better_." Riddle groaned. "Are you going to leave me _alone_ now?"

"It is unlikely. I've been cooped up, and you and Potter will likely be the most amusing thing around… bar Albus. Do you think he'll manage a heart attack?"

Riddle had been reaching for his wand again, but paused. "I thought you were 'in love' or some rot?"

"Well, yes. But we were very young. Then one of us killed his sister, probably Albus, though he's in denial. Then he went and took _my_ wand and _locked me up_."

"In your own prison." Riddle gloated… probably a fair hit, considering Gellert's rubbing in his failure to kill a infant.

"Mmm… I should destroy Nurmengard at some stage… maybe for Yule."

"There is a weak point at due south - you didn't consider the shift of the Ley lines."

" _Is_ there? Wonderful! Is that how you got in?"

"No."

Gellert pouted. Perhaps he would spend the term cajoling Riddle into coming with him. Dark Lord's enjoyed bringing down impenetrable prisons… didn't they? Well, _Gellert_ did. There was that nasty one in southern Japan based on soul magics. It had been a necessity for Gellert as they supposedly had information on the resurrection stone. That turned out to be a dud, but bringing down the wards had turned out to be quite fun. The hoard of leithfolds it had unearthed had been a bother, but Gellert had a portkey, and he could manage a _passable_ Patronus. Briefly Gellert lost himself musing what happened to the hoard after he left. There was that city near by… he's forgotten the name. Perhaps the muggles blamed their little war? No doubt thousands would have got caught… unless Leithfolds got full? Curious…

 

"I'll take them from here, Hagrid."

"Minerva! Potter's missin' - one of the kids said he was on the train, but he wasn't with the herd!"

 

 _Herd_. Urgh, Gellert didn't like children particularly, but they, by age eleven at least, were hardly _animals_.

Before any more drama could ensue, Potter was brought out, followed by _another_ halfbreed staff member. Goblin, perhaps? Professor Flitwick - apparently - informed Minerva McGonagall, that Potter had caught the carriages with the older students.

Gellert was quite impressed, as Potter pulled of innocent-and-sorry better than most, blaming the whole thing on 'a pair of red-heads that had told him it was the right way to go'. Clearly these were magic words, and professor McGonagall's wrath was instantly transferred to the other boys, and 'Harry dear' was told to join his peers.

Harry slipped in next to Gellert.

" _Nice_." Gellert commented, once McGonagall had gone off to announce them after a short but rousing speech on House loyalty. Gellert remembered her now, Albus' little transfiguration protege. He oversaw her Mastery, if Gellert remembered correctly.

"Wait until you meet Fred and George." Potter replied.

"Troublemakers?"

"Oh, Pranksters. They'll either think it great fun, or target me for the rest of their Hogwarts days."

"You don't seem worried."

"Well I assume this is all going to be rather boring, to be honest."

Gellert went to reply, when there was a shriek from the other side of the room. A whole _haunting_ of ghosts had come through one wall… and through the girl who shrieked.

 

"He's gone too far this time." One fat ghost said to another. "He shouldn't be allowed!"

"We've petitioned the Headmaster, but I think we should take this to the board." A tall one agreed.

"The Baron has him in _somewhat_ hand, but it isn't enou- ARGH!!!" suddenly the female ghost talking let out a shriek of her own, and went shooting off back through the wall they had all come.

 

"They were discussing a poltergeist." Potter whispered, filling Gellert in. "Peeves."

"In a _school_!?" Gellert whispered back. He noticed Potter looked amused by the female ghost's departure, and Riddle, standing much closer to the ghosts, looked pissed off. _Interesting_.

 

"That's enough now. Move along." McGonagall was back, and directed the ghosts out.

"Form a line, please, they are ready for you now."

Gellert manoeuvred so he was behind Potter. Friendly facade aside, Potter was clearly playing games probably just as dangerous as Riddle's and Gellert's own. The Great Hall was wonderful. The girl from the boat was telling someone about it being enchanted. Any fool could tell that, but perhaps _Hogwarts: A History_ was worth looking at after all. Maybe there was more information on _who_ enchanted it. It had to be tied into the wards, which _was_ wonderful.

There were four long tables of students, and Gellert spotted who he suspected Potter had blamed, twins by the look of them, and presumably a brother or cousin to the tall rude boy in their own year, judging by the matching vivid red hair.

The first years were all lined up on the raised stage that held the professor's table. Gellert instantly searched out Albus and tried to make himself hard for him to see. Albus looked… _old_. It was weird. Gellert hadn't had a mirror in decades, and since coming back he obviously looked like a child again. He didn't like Albus' beard. It was ridiculous. Also impractical for duelling. Maybe Albus was responsible for the equally impractical new robe designs?

 

McGonagall lifted a hat from a box, and placed it on a small stool in the centre of the stage. Gellert had a moment of confusion, before it _came alive_. It also sung all about their little dividing system. Gellert was more interested in the enchantments. He activated mage sight, and was instantly even _more_ interested, because other than a dull glow that indicated something magical, the hat was _perfectly normal_. _Not_ just an enchantment then.

To his delight, McGonagall then proceeded to call their surnames _alphabetically_. Gellert wouldn't have his thunder stolen by Riddle. How wonderful.

 

 

"Goyle, Greggory"

A rather chubby boy heft forward and plonked himself on the seat. The hat, thankfully, didn't work out loud. Although whilst a vast invasion of privacy, if it _was_ based on mind magics like Gellert presumed, then it would have been quite funny to hear what the school thought of a Dark Lord's mind. _Two_ , actually, Gellert kept forgetting about Riddle.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat bellowed. Which clearly _mortified_ the boy, as he sat on the stool stunned for a moment well after McGonagall removed the hat.

"To your table, Mr Goyle." McGonagall prompted.

"But-… but-"

"Off you go!" she sounded just a tad more exasperated now. Which was probably why she absentmindedly called "Grindelwald, Gellert." still staring after the boy.

 

The rest of the hall was _not_ so distracted.

Dead silence.

Well, except Albus. Gellert gleefully strode forward, watching Albus' face contort through about sixty emotions, and he raised to his feet. McGonagall had noticed the _reactions_ , and then caught sight of Gellert's face. At his peak he had looked older, obviously, but not _that_ changed. Her eyes snapped back to the list of names, and then she went pale.

Gellert cheerfully sat himself on the stool, and to his amusement McGonagall practically _threw_ the hat at him, clearly not wanting to get close.

Unlike the other students, Gellert tilted the hat back, so that he could watch what was going on. He had also sat almost sideways, so he could watch Albus out of the corner of his eye. He was deathly pale and his jaw was slightly dropped.

How amusing.

["It is indeed. Though perhaps not very nice, to dwell on other's suffering."]

Gellert stoutly did _not_ jump through his skin.

["You talk!"] He thought back, impressed.

["Lord Grindelwald. You don't know what you are doing here."]

["No. But to more pressing matters. _How_ do you talk? You aren't an enchantment, and I don't _think_ you're a trapped soul. You could be a Horcrux or a Steelrva, but surely you would have tried to escape or possess a student."]

The hat chuckled. ["I am made to sort."]

["No, no. You were clearly made to be _studied_. This _is_ a school."]

["Perhaps Ravenclaw?"] the hat mused, ignoring him. It was enough to remind Gellert of his plans.

["Oh, no. I was actually thinking Slytherin, if you don't mind. I'll have the most fun there."]

["You've got a mind for Ravenclaw, and-"] The hat broke off in stunned silence. Gellert was having none of it. Interesting object or not. He instantly completely rearranged his mind so that all of his sly, cunning, ambitious thoughts were thrust to the forefront and any others seemingly ceased to exist.

["What-… that-… that _isn't_ occlumency!"] it sounded quite alarmed.

["And you _aren't_ an enchantment. So what are you?"]

["I am _not_ getting involved with a Dark Lord known for experimentation, is what I am."] "SLYTHERIN" it bellowed aloud, then before Gellert could stop her, McGonagall removed the hat. Gellert sent her a mild glare, and was vastly amused at the amount of colour she lost.

Never mind. He would study the hat later. It couldn't be _that_ hard to steal. Or ' _borrow_ ', whatever.

 

Ah yes.

Unlike the other sortings, the Slytherins still cheered, but they sounded decidedly unsure. Gellert shot a broad smile at the professor's table - not _too_ obvious that he was gloating at Albus, but hardly not. He took a seat at the Slytherin table. He was the first Slytherin boy of the year, Tracey Davies and Millicent Bulstrode were looking terrified of him, and relieved when he sat down with space between them. He was soon followed by a Miss Greengrass. Amusingly, she hesitated a long moment, before sitting down opposite him, clearly _also_ terrified she had got it wrong. Gellert ignored her. He wanted to see Potter sorted.

It was tedious waiting. He was joined by more Slytherins. Two boys, Nott and Malfoy, and another girl, Moon. The girls had better masks, but the boys just looked greedy.

Finally a girl called Parkinson joined him, followed by McGonagall calling "Potter, Harry."

The hall gained just as much whispering as when Gellert's name had been called, though friendlier. People all around the room were being thoroughly unsubtle, trying to get a look at Potter, a few even going so far as to stand on their seats.

Potter wasn't under there for long, but caused enough chaos to have been.

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat bellowed.

Across from him both Greengrass and Nott swore, then gave each other the stink eye. There was a swell of comments, but then _absolute silence_ followed. Gellert didn't bother breaking it to clap, because Potter was clearly just amused. Potter slipped into the seat next to Gellert.

"Dumbledore looks _distressed_." Potter whispered.

Gellert grinned.

 

* * *

 

Harry had had _fun_ , on the train. Grindelwald had been a shock. Hell, Tom was a surprise, however Harry was kind of _used_ to him getting all involved in Harry's stuff. Even after he died people were always bringing him up, and Death Eaters were always going about bothering Harry for 'revenge' or whatever. Then there was that idiot who blood-adopted himself using Tom's corpse and went about making a nuisance of himself. By that stage Al was dead, Lily injured, and Harry _far_ past having any patience for it all, so Harry had dealt with him by enslaving him to Lily and making him be her eyes. But whatever.

Tom was a surprise, but not a shock. Harry had wondered who else might show up, but so far, at Hogwarts at least, it seemed to be just the three of them. Death probably had something to do with it. She had been highly approving of Harry's becoming a Dark Lord.

 

Harry had been off put, when he noticed Tom and Grindelwald in a compartment together. He was hardly going to _leave_ them together _alone_. However it soon became apparent that while they were indeed them, they didn't seem to have any idea what was going on either, and only Tom seemed to recognise Grindelwald. Though perhaps if Harry hexed Tom's nose off Gellert might have a fairer shot.

It was still in the cards for later.

 

Leaving the train after announcing them - and thus, his non-eleven self, Harry thought up _more_ trickery, spotting the Weasley twins up ahead, climbing into a coach. Better to let Tom cool down. So Harry climbed in with them. Beside's he owed them some fun for setting off their prank-supplies earlier to avoid their family.

"Hey now-"

"-Ickle firstie-"

"-you're not meant-"

"-to be here!"

Harry put on innocent eyes. "No one _told_ me to go anywhere else."

The twins glanced at each other, then shrugged and grinned.

"I'm Fred."

"And I'm George."

"I'm Percy Weasley." Harry said, innocently. He _liked_ the twins. They had _both_ been dead by the time everything went to hell, so Harry wouldn't hold their blood against them.

They spluttered a little. Then one caught sight of his scar.

"Harry Potter!"

"Where!?" Harry said, looking around, wide eyed.

Before they could comment, Lee Jordan climbed in with his spider, and Harry instantly caused more chaos.

"Hello," Harry grinned, holding out his hand "I'm Lee Jordan, and this is Gred and Forge. Were you the one terrorising Hufflepuffs?"

"Er… You-… I-..."

 

Needless to say, Harry enjoyed his carriage ride far more than he might have crossing the lake with a murderous Dark Lord trying to push him in. Possibly even _two_ murderous Dark Lords, he didn't know Grindelwald well enough to judge.

 

Flitwick was standing in the entry hall talking to a student, and spotted Harry almost instantly amongst the more familiar students. He led Harry firmly towards the side-chamber, and handed him off to McGonagall. Feeling mischievous, Harry put his best puppy dogs eyes on and blamed the twins. McGonagall looked about to explode, and then wandered off, presumably to start Gryffindor off in the negative by quite a margin. Harry spotted Tom on one side of the room, so moved to the other, finding himself next to Grindelwald.

"Nice." Harry was complimented, so it certainly didn't _appear_ that Grindelwald wanted to kill him. That was rather novel, as far as Harry's Dark Lord experiences went.

"Wait until you meet Fred and George." Harry replied. Idly he wondered if he could convince two Dark Lords to join him in a prank war. Snape would never know what hit him. Granted, apparently Snape was secretly good after all… but as far as Harry saw it, the man had been utterly _miserable_ towards Harry because he didn't like his dad and had a crush on his mum. _Well_ , Harry didn't like Snape's past self and… okay, _no_. No crushes, but maybe he could take offence to said crush on his mum?

 

"Troublemakers?" Grindelwald asked. Harry's thoughts had gone off on a sharp tangent and were somewhere around chopping Snape up for Potions ingredients, so it took him a moment to follow.

"Oh, _pranksters_. They'll either think it great fun, or target me for the rest of their Hogwarts days." There was probably something wrong with Harry that he was hoping for the later. Grindelwald obviously thought so too.

"You don't seem worried."

"Well I assume this is all going to be rather boring, to be honest." Harry lied. He would not be _letting_ it get boring.

 

Just at that minute the ghosts arrived, loudly complaining about Peeves. Harry had seen Colin Creevey's photo albums once, Denis had shown him, and apparently the ghosts 'forgot' about the first years _that_ year too. Harry assumed it was their way of greeting new students. However in this case Harry was more than a little interested to see the results.

He wasn't disappointed.

The Grey Lady didn't talk much… _to students_. She _was_ loudly complaining to the Fat Friar about the Baron (no prejudice _there_. Ha!) when she caught sight of Tom. There was _definitely_ something wrong with Harry.

She let out a _delightful_ squeal, and went flying from the room. Harry would have to drop a hint to Tom that she was the one who spilled the beans about his diadem horcrux. Tom would no doubt make an effort to silence her, which would throw them into situations together all the time. (Harry may have felt fairly lacklustre with regards to Tom, but he was still annoyed at the people who _could_ have stopped him _years earlier_ , but _hadn't_ ).

 

"They were discussing a poltergeist." Harry whispered, as Grindelwald had a frown. "Peeves."

"In a _school_!?" Gellert whispered back, sounding outraged… though Harry suspected there was a fair bit of intrigue there. Grindelwald was known for his bizarre experiments.

 

McGonagall led the first years into the hall. Grindelwald slipped behind Harry, but by now Harry was _fairly_ sure that he didn't intend to harm him. He probably figured out that Tom would make himself annoying if anyone but _Tom_ hurt Harry. Tom was a little possessive. It was the hoarder in him, no doubt. Harry didn't know if Tom had subconsciously known Harry was a Horcrux, or if he just collected _everything_. Maybe Slughorn rubbed off on Tom more than he thought. Hoarders Anonymous. Hmm.

 

Harry was broken out of his musings suddenly. Crabbe had been under the hat, but instead of yelling out _Slytherin_ , the damned thing put him in _Ravenclaw_!! The boy who failed _four_ OWLS and had to repeat most subjects!! Never mind Harry hadn't even been sure he could _talk_ until around their fifth year. _Ravenclaw_! Harry forced himself to pay more attention, and letting his eyes drift across the room he was shocked to see Terry Boot cheerfully sitting _at the Gryffindor table_.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the hat thoughtfully. Maybe it had time magic weaved in. Come to think of it, _all_ the years were _fairly_ evenly divided. You would think that over time there would be the _occasional_ year full of nerds, or one full of brave-idiots. Maybe that was _really_ why it let him go to Gryffindor, because they were down on numbers that year. In their later life Hermione had admitted to Harry that she had actually asked for Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor. She was rather put out when Harry told her that _he_ had got to choose. Not, she had said, that she regretted it in the long run, but those first months were _awful_ for her.

 

Harry's semi-theory was given further proof, when Goyle _went to Hufflepuff_. Now that made more sense to Harry… except that first Goyle actually tried to argue, and secondly because Harry spotted him looking utterly lost as the Hufflepuffers warmly welcomed him with smiles. Harry would keep an eye on him, it was bound to be amusing.

"Grindelwald, Gellert!"

While McGonagall was clearly distracted, Harry had been waiting for it, and had his eyes firmly on Dumbledore. He looked like he'd choked on a candy. His face went _even paler_ when Grindelwald stepped out. Because there was a plausible 'you look like your father', and there was an _exact copy_. Plus, Dumbledore had to be _fairly_ sure that Grindelwald was gay… or, actually, no. Harry supposed Grindelwald could be bi… or it could have been unrequited, though that wasn't how Harry understood it. Still, clearly it was a kick in the teeth, even if at this stage Dumbledore still had the hope that it was a child-of, or really unfortunately named look-alike.

Harry was a bit surprised, to be honest, when Grindelwald went to Slytherin. From everything Harry had read he would have picked him for a Ravenclaw. Then again, being a Dark Lord had turned out to be quite a lot of effort, so for someone actively _planning_ it, that had to count for a lot of ambition.

 

Eventually Harry was called.

Now.

Harry knew what was expected of him. (Gryffindor). He also, however, was _no_ little goody-two-shoes-ready-to-sacrifice-himself-again- _idiot_. Besides, the hat _had_ wanted him in Slytherin.

["…You're involved in this Grindelwald mess?"]

["Hmm… yes. Say, hat, can I make a house-request?"]

["It looks like you did, previously."]

["Ah, no. I don't mean about me. I'm happy enough heading to Slytherin this time. No, I was wondering if I could request someone _else's_ sorting?"]

["I've already sorted Lord Grindelwald there, so if you want to go to Slytherin without him, I can't help you."]

["Ah, no. Actually Tom Riddle is here too. No idea what's going on, but I thought it would be _highly_ amusing to send him to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."]

["…"]

["So... you'll think about it?"]

["I am getting _too old_ for this shit."] "SLYTHERIN!"

 

Harry had to forcibly withhold a cackle.

Then he caught sight of the staff, and he actually had to wandlessly _hex himself_ so he didn't laugh. Firstly, there was Dumbledore, still reeling from Grindelwald, and now, on top of wanting a Gryffindor recklessly-brave-hero-tool, and having _that_ dashed, he had to worry about Harry being in the same dorm as Grindelwald. To his credit, it _did_ look like he was worried _for_ Harry, not just about him.

McGonagall look like a cat who had her cream stolen.

Snape, and this was Harry's favourite, _Snape_ looked like he was about to be physically ill. He actually looked in _pain_. It was wonderful. He was also glaring at the hat, and Harry wondered if a Head of House had ever petitioned to have a student removed on their first night. No doubt Dumbledore would be dealing with that later too.

 

Then there was someone Harry had honestly completely forgotten about.

Quirrell.

Now, Harry would have been all set to believe the man un-possessed, seeing as Tom was not ten meters to Harry's right. Except he still had the turban, Harry still felt someone attempt a legilimency probe when he looked that way (it _could_ be Snape, but maybe not?), and Quirrell now looked to be in a fair amount of pain. _Someone_ was presumably upset about Harry being in _his_ house.

 

Harry cheerfully ignored the complete silence in the hall, and made his way to the Slytherin table. Which _was_ , admittedly, a bit weird. He would probably have to watch himself when half asleep in the mornings and having to pick a table. Harry shot a wink at the Weasley twins on his way past, then sat down immediately next to Grindelwald, who the other Slytherins had left a wide space around.

"Dumbledore looks distressed." Harry whispered, amused as Grindelwald all but lit up.

 

Eventually the cold silence broke and everyone started whispering about Harry going to Slytherin. Oh well. At least this time it wouldn't be _lies_ when they called him a Dark Lord. plus this time he could hex them in response, as he _was_ a Dark Lord, too. Then again, knowing his luck, they would probably decide he was some light-hero bent on saving the Slytherins or some rot. He would _not_ be doing that. He kept Draco and Narcissa out of jail once, and all that got him was the idiot constantly furious at him. What _was it_ with Slytherins and taking owing life-debts so poorly?

 

The rumour mill didn't have _too_ long to get going, however, because McGonagall _did_ recognise the next name.

"Riddle-…. _T- Tom_." Harry was _highly_ amused, because McGonagall's voice went high and squeaky, and if possibly she tried to keep even _further_ back than she had when _tossing_ the sorting hat at Grindelwald. Harry had forgotten they went to school together. Ooooh. Maybe she had a crush on perfect-prefect-Riddle back in the day. _That_ would be gold.

The students might have found her behaviour simply _odd_ … except that the staff let the kneezles out of the bag.

Dumbledore shot to his feet, wand in hand. Snape actually knocked his goblet over, then swore loud enough that the whole room heard, though he hadn't even _looked_ at the spilt drink yet, eyes on Riddle.

However Harry had eyes pretty much _solely_ for Quirrell.

 

 _Definitely_ Voldemort. How interesting.

 

Quirrell had been drinking, and choked on his drink, sat ramrod straight, and looked like he had just been stabbed. Now, what Harry wouldn't _give_ to be partial to _those_ thoughts. He was half tempted to access their mind link. Tom was even too young to be a horcrux materialised, like the diary had tried with Ginny.

Harry belatedly noticed the room was silent again, even as the hat called (somewhat desperately, Harry thought) "SLYTHERIN!!!" before it had even _touched_ Tom's head. Harry pouted a bit at that, he would have _loved_ to see Tom's face getting Hufflepuff… and Quirrell-mort's too, come to think of it.

Still, there was still room for mischief. Seeing an opportunity, Harry stood to his feet and waved enthusiastically.

"Hey Tom! I saved you a seat!" Harry called loudly across the silence.

Yep, _that_ face was equally as amusing. Unfortunately Quirrell had schooled his own into blankness, but Tom's eye had twitched. Maybe Harry could make him get a permanent tic by Halloween?

 

Dumbledore looked about ready to die, too. Whoops.

 

"I am going to _kill you_ , Potter." Tom hissed, but he did slide into the seat on Harry's other side.

"And how's that working out for you?" Gellert said, snarkily.

"Oh shut _up_." Tom grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Don't be a sore loser, I'm sure Dumbledore is _just_ as worried about you, he probably just tried harder to save face."

Harry grinned, throwing his arms around both boys. He wasn't sure who disliked this more, Tom and Grindelwald, or the various watching staff.

"This is going to be _great_."


	3. Welcome to Slytherin

"I can't _believe_ Greg is in Hufflepuff!" the little Malfoy said after the food appeared and the Bloody Baron had come to break the ice. Potter probably helped too, much to Tom's disgust. Potter chatted away _at_ the other Slytherins until eventually they started relaxing.

"Yes, _and_ Crabbe is in Ravenclaw, and Terry Boot is in Gryffindor. Odd." Potter replied.

Tom had noted Crabbe and Goyle, because both their father's were his, and he had known which of the few of his followers' children _weren't_ in Slytherin originally. Boot was a surprise. Or rather, he assumed he hadn't been in Gryffindor before, as Potter wouldn't have commented otherwise.

"Who?" little Malfoy asked (Tom really _should_ figure out his name, he hadn't been paying attention when the boy introduced himself or for his sorting, and he only ever learnt it previously because dear Bella was always harassing the boy).

"The brunet sitting next to Nearly-Headless Nick." Potter provided.

" _Boot_." little Malfoy said, tasting the word. "Is he a half-blood then?"

Potter was clearly only half listening. Tom was reluctantly amused. In his experience, Malfoy's hated nothing more than lacking attention.

"Hmm? Oh, a muggleborn I'm fairly sure."

Potter was still staring across at the Gryffindor table and missed little Malfoy's sneer. "Then _why_ is it surprising that he's in Gryffindor?"

"What?" Potter finally turned to look at little Malfoy. "Oh, I guess he just didn't seem the type."

On the other side of Potter, Gellert clearly caught on. "Have you met him, then?"

Potter's lip quirked, clearly amused. "Nope."

Little Malfoy let out a frustrated huff and Theodore Nott, beside him, frowned.

"The DA?" Tom spoke. Purposely cryptic, because, despite encouraging Potter, it _was_ a little amusing to see the Slytherin's get all bothered. (Tom had _always_ enjoyed that).

Potter glanced at him. "Not to the Department of Mysteries, but yes."

Theodore Nott looked constipated. Little Malfoy was glaring at Boot across the hall. Potter probably hadn't _meant_ to single him out, though he obviously noticed little Malfoy's new glare and didn't seem bothered.

Tom had to remind himself (again) that Potter, having survived him, had clearly changed in the unknown amount of years he'd lived. However on the topic of that disastrous Ministry mission, Tom _also_ had to remind himself (also again) that crucioing the brat in the Great Hall would be more trouble than it was worth.

Clearly Potter saw something in his gaze, because his lips twitched, and he changed the topic, drawing the student's attention to other matters.

 

 

 

It was strange, returning to Hogwarts as a student. It was particularly strange heading to the Slytherin Common Room at the back of a prefect, treated like he didn't yet know the way, and didn't _quite_ belong yet. The password was 'Pure-Blood', which Tom found amusing. Gellert seemed to find personal offence in the hidden wall.

" _What_?" Tom eventually snapped.

"If I had known we would be sleeping in the _dungeons_ I would have let the damn hat put me in Ravenclaw."

"I _had_ wondered," Potter chipped in, "I thought Ravenclaw would suit you."

"Mmm, but the interesting things would clearly be around you two, and I was hardly going to give Albus the satisfaction of being in his old house." Gellert paused. "I thought _you_ would be in Gryffindor."

"He _should_ be." Tom interrupted, sending Potter a glare.

"Actually, Tommy, dearest-" Potter had to side-step a wandless hex, but didn't seem bothered. Tom would gut him in his sleep! "-I _should_ have been in Slytherin before, but I held a _teensy_ bit of a grudge about you killing off my parents."

"Couldn't you have held it a bit _longer_?" Damn it. He was whining. And judging by Potter's amused look, he'd noticed.

Potter ignored him and turned to Gellert. "I've never done it before, but surely between the three of us we can charm a window into a dungeon. I wouldn't worry. Less stairs to climb, Gryffindor is on the Seventh floor, and Ravenclaw the fifth. Hufflepuff would have been your best bet, they look out over the Greenhouses, though their entrance is through giant cider barrels, and they are temperamental things."

"Mmm, I suppose it is better to have you two within my sights anyway." Gellert replied. "I still would have thought you a Gryffindor."

"Look," Tom interrupted, " _I_ am here for cunning and ambition, you for at _least_ ambition, and Potter… clearly knew better than to leave two Dark Lords alone to plot."

Potter laughed. Which just pissed Tom off more.

 

"Welcome to Slytherin House." A burly boy called loudly, and the common room fell quiet. "Slytherin House is about cunning and ambition, we aren't afraid to use what we need to get what we want. There _is_ a prejudice about our house. I see it that the other houses get jealous because so many of our alumni go on to be great. Regardless, Slytherins need to be wary when alone outside the common room, and as a rule, we stick together, keeping any arguments _in house_ , literarily."

Tom tuned the boy out, as he went over the standard set of house rules. Two elder students put forth a debate of a rule, but both were shut down this time. Tom distracted himself by trying to name faces within the room. A lot of the older years were easy, but he stumbled on a few.

Curiously, beside him, Potter was blatantly taking careful note of the rules, which all but stunk of trouble to Tom. Potter _did not_ follow rules. Gellert seemed to be as uninterested as Tom.

 

The Burly boy - apparently their prefect - finished up and a lot of the house drifted off to unpack. Several didn't, however, and Tom forcibly kept himself loose as the first year's were slowly surrounded by upper years.

"So, Potter… _halfblood_. You think you _deserve_ to be here? You and your _mudblood_ friend?"

Potter had looked mildly displeased, though not surprised at the comment, right up until the boy (he looked like a Blishwick) called Tom a mudblood. Then, to Tom's annoyance, Potter _burst into laughter_.

The attempted-bully sneered harder. "Is there a _problem_ , Potter?" Potter just laughed _louder_ , ignoring the clear threat of the boy and his goon-sidekicks cracking their knuckles. To be fair, they had no idea what they were dealing with, as Potter was, in the very _least_ , actually seventeen, but it annoyed Tom.

"No, no, _please_ , insult him again," Potter gestured at Tom, "It's _hilarious_."

" _Potter_." Tom hissed. He really _would_ kill him, in a minute. Magic may not work, but Tom wasn't above conjuring a gun or knife. What Slytherin would think of such muggle means be damned!

"Look, Potter, you might think you're so great for killing the Dark Lord, but you are still _nothing_. You are untrained, uneducated, son of a mudblood, and friends with another filthy freak. Clearly you are-"

"Your death will no doubt be painful, but probably creative." Potter interrupted the boy. …Potter wasn't _wrong_. Tom had twitched at each insult. However before Tom could come up with a painful enough curse, Potter _of course_ went for the dramatic approach. Tom didn't care what the damn hat said, Potter _was_ a Gryffindor.

 

* * *

 

Harry had enough. Really, the whole day was just exhausting, and Harry wasn't looking forward to the rest of the year. Stane Blishwick was a grunt who had been head-asshole of Slytherin until Draco kicked him out mid-term due to better political power (better _everything_ , really, even Harry could admit that). It was amusing, watching the boy posture… for all of about six seconds. Though watching the way Tom's eye would twitch at each 'mudblood' _was_ fun. But, honestly, Harry just wanted to dispense with all the power plays and go to bed.

Honestly, Tom and Grindelwald would no doubt fight it out for top position, and everyone else would accommodate them or suffer. How any of the other students could _miss_ Tom and Grindelwald's power was completely beyond Harry.

So, he decided to end things the quickest way he could.

.:Oh shut up, you overblown prig:. Harry hissed, much more fluent in Parseltongue now, from when the only other speakers were his children, not a nemesis.

Blishwick _did_ immediately shut up. The entire Common Room went silent, actually.

"The Potters are _not_ Parseltongues." Someone spoke up. Harry glanced across, seeing a elder-Parkinson. Pansy's sister.

"Mmm, _no_." Harry agreed. "There was a magical transfer that Halloween, so I have access to Voldemort's family magics." Harry was barely paying attention to Slytherin's _stunned_ receival of that. His eyes were glued to Tom.

"You _what_!?!" Tom spat.

Harry gleefully smirked. "Oh yeah, .:I'm your horcrux, by the way. Best not plot to kill me _too_ soon:., Tommy dear." Harry started in English, switched to Parseltongue, then switched back.

Tom actually gave up pretences, flicking out his wand and sending an _extremely_ Dark hex Harry's way. Harry was ready, and had a shield up that just absorbed it. Honestly, if someone had told his teenage self that most Dark or aggressive magic could be stopped by Dark shields he would have become Dark _much_ sooner.

… Come to think of it, that was probably why they _didn't_.

 

For some _strange_ reason, Tom didn't appreciate Harry's new found skill.

"Potter you _fucking brat_! .:I'll skin you alive then:. rip out your innards, all while keeping you .:alive and _begging for:._ death, you absolutely _filthy_ .:and impossible piece of muggle-scum!:."

Harry had discovered, once Al (and later Lily) started speaking Parseltongue, that another Parselmouth's intent could affect when a different speaker switched with a bit of practice. His kids had taken delight in making the other unintelligible to outsiders at awkward moments, when they were young. He was fairly sure that Tom hadn't even _realised_ he'd switched back and forth.

Then again, Tom probably hadn't had much experience with other speakers… other than his batty family. Harry dodged a bone-breaker, but was forced to step into a burn hex. It was healed easily enough, but Harry sent back a bone breaker of his own, for the trouble. Followed by fiendfire, because Harry was an ass. The whole thing spiralled a bit out of control, but then, Harry hadn't had a good duel in quite a few years, and Tom had presumably last done so just before Harry killed him. Or, really, in the ministry against Dumbledore, if we're talking a duel, rather than battle with weird wands.

 

Fortunately, Grindelwald was on the ball.

He sent the two of them the equivalent of a tap on their magical cores mid battle, before calling their names.

"Potter, Riddle." He didn't say anything else, but Harry had long since became accustomed to tracking near-by Dark Marks, and Tom must be have always been aware of his little followers, because after one final glare from Tom, they both turned their magic on putting the common room back together without comment, wands away, and the room looking like Harry hadn't redirected Tom's blasting curse into that pillar a minute ago.

By the time Snape walked in there was nothing wrong… except for the fact that the rest of Slytherin were backed up firmly against the walls, while Tom and Harry stood out in the centre.

"Potter!" Snape spat. "What on _earth_ is going on?!" _naturally_ the bastard blamed Harry (it wasn't' like Snape _knew_ it actually _was_ Harry's fault this time!)

Harry slung an arm around Tom's shoulders, smile fixed on his face. Having already established that Tom hated the contact, Harry gripped hard and wouldn't let go. "We were having a good old fashioned debate, Sir."

"About _what_?"

"Whether mudblood was an acceptable term." Harry replied cheerfully.

Snape's jaw clenched a few times. ('Five hundred points from Gryffindor!' Harry imagined him yelling). "That term is _not_ to be used."

"No Sir, _we_ didn't think so either. That's why we were debating it. Although the whole thing is rather a moot point, as Tom here _isn't_ a muggleborn anyway, coming from Slytherin's line on one side." His mother's, but Harry would leave Tom open to chase the Voldemort's-son angle if he pleased.

"And the rest of the house is backed away from you because…"

"Well, Sir, we were debating in Parseltongue." Harry said, innocent face to the full and a cheerful tone. Harry felt Tom twitch under his arm.

Harry _thoroughly_ enjoyed the way Snape's eyes widened and his skin paled… practically a dropped jaw for the stone faced bastard.

"Because of the impolite word, to be honest." Tom added.

Outwardly Harry smiled. .:Have you _ever_ preferred the honest way, Tom:. he smirked, without actually looking away from Snape.

.:Sleep tight tonight, Potter. Snape won't be there to save you then… and the honest way is for _suckers_ :.

Harry rolled his eyes at the threat. .:Are you going to tuck me in, then… I say, Snape's twitch is almost as good as yours:.

.:I often crucio'd them in parseltongue. Stop taunting my minions:.

.:He's _not_ , actually. Unbreakable vow to protect _me_ , so not really loyal to Dumbledore either, but not _yours_ in the end:.

"Potter! No talking in-"

"Actually, _sir_ , Salazar Slytherin specifically wrote in the school charter that Parseltongue could not be discriminated against." Tom spoke up, tone glacial, surprising Harry. Then again, with _that_ bombshell dropped it should probably be Snape, not Harry, who should be worried about dying in their sleep.

Eh. Harry knew some pretty nasty wards, and if Snape didn't ward his bed, then bully for him.

 

* * *

 

They were… _magnificent_.

The magic was impressive, and they both clearly needed to vent off some steam, but _that_ wouldn't have impressed Gellert alone. Because powerful, well-trained wizards weren't _actually_ in as short supply as one might imagine.

No. It was the _connection_ that was magnificent. These two _knew_ each other's magic, better than even most twins. Gellert's magical sensitivity couldn't actually tell the difference between the two while they were gunning for each other a lot of the time. Plus Potter would send a spell, and Riddle would simply _catch it_ , and send it back. Not _take it over_ , he would send _Potter's magic_ back. Potter could do the same… though he _also_ seemed to be able to _change_ Riddle's magic… which Gellert hadn't even known was _possible_ until just now.

Gellert had never seen anything like it. He would _kill_ to understand them.

No, really. If he weren't worried about ending up being able to speak _only_ snake… or something random like turkey (because rituals _really_ hated him), he would hunt down a Parseltongue and do a transfer of magics ritual tonight.

 

Gellert observed his new House-Master… or whatever they called them here at Hogwarts. Snape was… disappointing, to be honest. He clearly hated Potter with a thriving passion, which wasn't any way for a teacher to behave.

Unless Potter had already cursed the man, which Gellert actually wouldn't put past the boy, even though he had seemingly been within Gellert's sight pretty much since arriving at the castle.

Potter had no problem handling the man, however, and Riddle's personality had done a full one eighty towards the man within a few minutes of his arrival… after something Potter said in snake.

Gellert let out a quiet sigh. It had been a _long_ time since he had been truly jealous of another witch or wizard. Still, Potter seemed inclined to include Gellert, and Riddle in the least wasn't _objecting_. Perhaps he would stay on as an 'eleven year old' for a while longer, this was all proving quite diverting.

 

Eventually their House-Master tired of being tied in knots by the two boys, and sent a last minute parting shot to Potter about his muggle clothes under his robes. He objected to the muggle attire. Of course Potter was prepared, and pulled out an extremely old and dusty tome.

"According to Hogwarts Rules and Charter, chapter Eiwaz, Point thirteen _'Robes must be warn during class and official feasts, and uniform must be worn for formal occasions, official feasts, sporting events, and any activity where outsiders are present_ '. Besides, these _are_ 'Black pants', and my shirt _is_ a school colour."

"Detention! Potter."

"For _what_ , Sir?"

"Backchat."

"Ah. Yes Sir." Potter said, insufferably amiably. Gellert felt a spark of pity for the House-Master. He clearly had _no_ idea what he was dealing with. Then again, come to think of it, neither did Gellert.

 

"I don't suppose someone might lead me to my room?" Gellert posed to the room at large.

"I will!" Potter smiled, nodding _kindly_ at the House-Master. "Goodnight Sir. Come along Tom."

Riddle instantly started hissing at Potter in threatening manner, but Potter didn't let it faze him. Gellert vacated the room after them quick smart. Because _someone_ was clearly going to have to suffer the House-Master's wrath for him to save face, and it was _not_ going to be Gellert.


	4. Coffee?

 

Classes were… _well_ , Harry hadn't had Potions or Defence yet, but so far they were utterly _boring_. Harry hadn't been this bored in a _loooooong_ time. There were certain perks with becoming a Dark Lord, and causing untold amounts of mischief without worrying overly about the consequences was definitely one. It did _not_ lead to a whole heap of boredom. Unlike school. Hell, they were almost a full week into term and Tom hadn't even _actually_ tried to kill Harry yet. Harry wasn't even sure he was _going to_. Dull.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to do with a Hogwarts experience that didn't include Tom trying to kill him. Grindelwald was proving rather lacklustre too, to be honest.

 

Plus the side effect of the little spat he and Tom had on the first night was that the first year Slytherins were avoiding them… well, the upper years too, but they hardly had much of a reason to seek Harry out anyway. Harry contemplated whether he knew of any in-house family feuds he could stoke, or general havoc he could create. Sadly, he came up short. Maybe Tom would know some useful dirt of his baby-deatheaters. Hmm.

 

"Potter!" Tom snapped, from directly behind Harry.

Talk of the devil.

Harry shot him a friendly smile - friendly, because Harry found it amusing to watch Tom twitch. "Good morning, Tom." Harry _also_ enjoyed the way that Tom had _already_ resigned himself to Harry calling him _Tom_. "I thought you must be going to sleep in today."

Harry had put up a ward in the Slytherin dorms that deactivated any alarm spells. Gellert clearly had a good internal clock, but the rest of the dorm was struggling something fierce. No one had figured out how he'd done it yet.

"Isn't that your bird?" Tom growled. Pushing Harry's newspaper aside and half onto his breakfast plate so he could sit where he wanted.

Harry rolled his eyes, but just shot a vanishing spell a the mess and shuffled down. Harry looked where Tom was pointing.

_Hedwig_.

Harry instantly brightened. It wasn't exactly _his_ Hedwig, in that she was only just getting to know him now, but all the same Harry had almost _cried_ when he found her.

"I was trying to see how long until Potter noticed him." Gellert spoke up, grumbling.

"Her." Harry corrected, offering Hedwig a slice of bacon… and then another one when she knocked over Tom's juice, and shot _Tom_ an offended look.

Atta-girl.

"Who is sending you mail?" Tom demanded. Nosy bastard.

…or not. Heh. That was _never_ getting old.

Harry shot a sideways glance at Tom, but decided that sharing the joke aloud would be more hassle than it was worth …right now. Maybe Harry would save it for before a History class, because that class had been boring the _first_ time around, and trying to duel another Dark Lord without being noticed by Binns sounded like an _excellent_ way to pass his time.

Harry opened the scroll, and glanced at the writing.

Huh.

 

Harry glanced up at the staff table. "Hagrid. Inviting me for tea. Funny, I would have thought he'd ditch me as soon as my tie turned green."

"Do _all_ Albus' staff hate Slytherin?" Gellert asked, while holding up two cups towards Tom and Harry.

Harry nodded to the cup, and Gellert transfigured the juice into Coffee.

Perfect.

"No. But Tom framed him for murder in his second year, so I imagine even if Tom _weren't_ my best friend, he'd still have issues."

Beside him Tom choked on his own coffee, only _just_ managing not to spit it across the table, by the looks of it.

"Your _what!?!?"_ Tom spat out.

Harry shot him a grin. It was _such_ fun, getting him all worked up so early in the morning. Especially because Tom seemed just as likely to take out his frustration on the staff or other students, which suited Harry _just fine_. It was curious, because Harry had no idea _why_ Tom had had a sudden change of heart.

"Sounds like a story." Gellert said, chuckling a little as Tom grumbled into his coffee.

"Did _all_ the staff invite you around for tea your first time, Potter. Spoilt brat." Tom sneered.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"No. Hagrid took me school-shopping. Which was actually unnecessary this time, as I had actually _already_ dragged Vernon along, and thoroughly enjoyed spending his money, so I'm not really sure why Hagrid was sent." It had ended profitably, even if he had had to pretend to buy things again. Dumbledore was meddling, clearly. Pity Harry knew _exactly_ what he was trying to pull this time. It would be good for Dumbledore, to get a taste of his own medicine. As he would be the _last_ person in-the-know this time.

Harry continued, "But last time round the Dursleys took us on this ridiculous adventure driving back and forth across the country trying to outrun the Hogwarts letters, before Hagrid eventually caught up with us. Ridiculous, Petunia _must_ have known the magical world wouldn't just give up their 'hero'. It _is_ kind of amusing, in hind sight. Do the Hogwarts elves send out our letters?"

"How should we know?" Tom grumbled, bitterly.

Who knew that Tom Riddle was such a poor morning person. Harry contemplated changing the ward he'd built to instead wake them up at four am instead of not at all. Nah, maybe after Christmas.

"It would explain how we," Gellert pointed at himself and Tom, "got letters without Albus chucking a hissy-fit."

Harry chuckled. "Well, it's the only excuse I can think of, because originally I must have got… oh, I don't know, _a thousand_ or so letters." Actually, if the elves were anything like Dobby, then Harry was only surprised that there weren't _more_ letters.

.:Spoilt:. Tom hissed again. Harry ignored him.

"Plus they must have traumatised our milkman. They sprung out of the milk bottles, and were _inside_ eggs Petunia cracked. Vernon nailed up the mail slit, but that hardly stopped them." Clever little devils, elves.

"Wait… you live with _muggles_?" Gellert said, sounding half outraged, and half disgusted.

"Unfortunately."

"But… _Why_?"

"A combination of assholes. Tom killed off mum and dad, Crouch and Bagnold sent my proper guardian to jail wrongly without trial, and Dumbledore set up blood wards and chucks a fit when I try to leave.."

"I could have walked in any time I _wanted_ , after I was reborn." Tom pointed out, shooting a glare at Dumbledore's empty chair.

Harry glanced at it too. The staff had been panicking all week, especially Dumbledore. Dumbledore had actually gone to the ministry, then their homes, to look up Tom and Gellert's history - presumably to see if they were really who they were. Both Tom and Gellert had left wards on their rooms that alerted them if another wizard entered - both of them being in orphanages with unaware muggles. There _wasn't_ proof of who they were to _be_ found, so all three of them just found the whole process rather amusing.

"Blood wards aren't _that_ hard to foil anyway, with a bit of mind arts, a dash of compulsions, and some murder. Honestly, the protections were _ridiculous_ , and it's all rot, because Dumbledore was firmly in the know about them treating me like dirt. Although I admit that I was a little _less_ cross with him after I began to suspect the elves sent the letters, as _they_ wouldn't have thought twice about a bedroom being 'the cupboard under the stairs'."

Harry was distracted, noting the Twins finally leaving the Gryffindor table, heads bent together. Excellent.

"I have a bit of business, I'll see you both in class." Harry called over his shoulder, already halfway out of the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

Riddle looked _ill_.

It _was_ utterly _disgusting_ , that Potter had been brought up by muggles, and clearly been raised so poorly… but Gellert wouldn't have thought _Riddle_ would care. Gellert didn't know the history there… he _was_ picking it up, as Potter seemed utterly unconcerned about sharing, but Riddle was a stingy bastard when it came to details.

 

Then again, Gellert could hardly blame him. The facade of friendship was just that. Gellert didn't believe for one minute that Potter _actually_ considered them friends… there was clearly a reason that both Potter and Riddle had come back to Hogwarts instead of sneaking off. It wasn't the Death Stick, either. Gellert had subtly sounded the other two out. Riddle had grumbled something about traitors, and hexed the (unsuspecting) Malfoy boy something fierce, but otherwise seemed unconcerned, and Potter had given Gellert a vaguely confused look, before understanding crossed his face. "Oh, right. Dumbledore still has that." had been his only comment, but again, he hadn't seemed that interested. Gellert could only assume that both of them only knew about the wand, not about the Hallows it belonged to, and the potential therein.

Regardless, he was _fairly_ sure that wasn't what drew them here… which means something else _did_. He had assumed, at first, that Albus had been _joking_ , when banning the third floor corridor, however only a few days in, Gellert had come to realise that Albus was _serious_. There was a _big_ magical creature behind the door. Gellert had sensed it, and decided on more research before going further.

Clearly there was more to Hogwarts than he had expected. He had heard rumours about Slytherin's secret chamber before (which he would _not_ put past the others to know about, thousand year secret or not!), and hints about a Gryffindor dueling hall (which perhaps Potter might know), but he hadn't really researched _much_ into Hogwarts' history before. The textbook, so named, was proving almost as useless as their history teacher, too.

 

Gellert was _appalled_ at the standard of teaching, really. Where were the Dark Arts? Even if Albus' sensibilities were offended at actually _casting_ any, they should be _taught_! At _least_ the history and practices. Half - _half!!_ \- of wizards were naturally Dark! For that matter, though it meant less to _Gellert_ , there should be a _Light_ magical class too. Not to mention that ghost should be removed _immediately_. Why, the idiot hadn't even reacted to his name, _nor Potter's_. He could only hope this 'Defence' class was going to cover both Light, Dark, and magical practices… though the fact that Riddle went rigid when he commented on it and that Potter had a fit of laughter did _not_ bode well.

 

"That does not bode well." Riddle said, startling Gellert by mirroring his own thoughts. A glance told Gellert it was _probably_ coincidence. Riddle was staring across the room where Potter was disappearing out of the hall with the red-haired twins. Gellert had yet to actually _meet_ them, but Potter seemed to have integrated himself, despite apparently landing the twins a week's worth of detention for the stunt coming up to the school.

"They could hardly be _more_ dangerous than _us_."

Riddle sent him an unreadable look.

"I would have recruited them in a heartbeat, if they weren't ridiculously loyal to Potter."

"Weasley… isn't that one of Albus' little staunch _Light_ families?"

"Politically. Even if they _weren't_ magically Dark… which I am fairly sure they actually _are_ , I would have recruited them _as_ Light wizards just the same. Geniuses… though of course they waste all their talent on practical jokes." Riddle paused, then scowled rather impressively. "Potter had them more loyal than even Bella… my best lieutenant. I _suppose_ it shall be interesting to see what he does with them _this_ time."

Gellert raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't thought Potter recruited."

"He is unaware that he does."

"Was." Gellert corrected. If there was one word he wouldn't use to describe Potter, it would be unaware. Riddle seemed even _more_ unimpressed with Gellert's correction. Gellert admired Riddle's scowl. He had _quite_ the repertoire of them going. Gellert should probably make a study of them. He never _had_ managed the furious-rage look so well. Then again, he had overheard plenty of minions saying they were terrified of Gellert specifically _because_ he was beautiful. Riddle had hardly ended up a belle of the ball. Gellert eyed Riddle's nose speculatively. Perhaps _he_ had issues with rituals too. He was fairly sure Potter mentioned something about one being involved in Riddle's rebirth.

"You are staring at me." Riddle commented.

Gellert refocused on Riddle's whole face, not just his nose.

_Really_ good at scowling.

" _What_!?" Riddle growled.

"How did you-" Gellert started… then his brain caught up with him. "Er… we have a double of Potions, then Defence, right?" That should distract him. There was _definitely_ history with their House-Master. Even if he _did_ want to know how Riddle lost a whole _nose_.

Riddle's scowl got _better_ _again_. Then his face suddenly shifted to openness and a polite smile. Gellert was _instantly_ suspicious.

"You're quite _good_ at Potions, so I hear."

"…Yes." Gellert said, cautiously, relaxing some. Thankfully Riddle was unaware of Gellert's previous train of thought. Clearly Potions would be… interesting… but hopefully not deadly.

Well… for Gellert. He cared less about the others. If they were too slow to catch on to avoid an angry Riddle, then they would only hold the magical world back anyway.

"I'll show you the way." Riddle offered amiably.

Gellert considered skipping the class entirely for a moment, before mentally shrugging. Boredom had been the bane of his existence for _decades_ , and he had to give it to the others… they never let life get boring for long. Besides, it couldn't be _that_ hard to find a seat separately.

"Sure."

 

* * *

 

Tom was furious at Potter. This was hardly a _new_ feeling… but the mixture of guilt was new… and it. _pissed. him. off._

He wasn't _meant_ to feel bad about killing off Potter's annoying parents. He had murdered _hundreds_ … and that was just _personally_. Plus there was the prophecy to be considered, and the brat's parents were a thorn in Tom's side - as with the rest of Dumbledore's rotten little group. He _shouldn't_ feel bad.

 

…they had locked Tom in a boot cupboard for a weekend, once, at Wool's. It was cramped and dusty, and there were spiders, and he had _hated_ it.

 

But Potter was an _enemy_ , damn it.

Riddle glared after him.

Oh no.

The majority (but not all - _damn it_!) of his guilt dispersed. Those twins. Fabian and Gideon Prewitt's reincarnation… _improved_. Tom felt a chill go down his spine. They were bad enough the _first_ time around. He had heard rumours that Potter _funded_ them then… but _this_ Potter would probably actively _encourage_ them, and no doubt had all sorts of information students weren't privy to.

"That does _not_ bode well." he mused aloud.

Though that was a bit of a lie. Tom was actually… _curious_ , about exactly what Potter could goad them into. Despite himself. Though he wouldn't hesitate to kill them if _he_ became their target.

"They could hardly be _more_ dangerous than us." Gellert commented.

Tom instantly remembered the portable swamps, the mechanical exploding distraction creatures, the vicious 'defensive' clothing, and their incredibly creative use of Peruvian powder. Not to mention their abilities as spies.

"I would have recruited them in a heartbeat, if they weren't ridiculously loyal to Potter."

He would have, too. Actually, he could this time… although, no. Potter had seemingly only spent a few hours, combined, in their general vicinity, but Tom didn't trust him not to have employed his 'Potter effect'.

"Weasley… isn't that one of Albus' little staunch _Light_ families?" Gellert screwed up his face, and sent a frankly _disgustingly_ wistful look at Dumbledore's empty chair. Ew.

"Politically." The Weasleys were actually _more_ Dark than they were Light. In terms of their magic, rather than politics. The eldest boy, the twins, that ministry stooge, plus Potter's sweetheart. "Even if they _weren't_ magically Dark… which I am fairly sure they actually _are_ , I would have recruited them _as_ Light wizards just the same. Geniuses… though of course they waste all their talent on practical jokes."

It was _ridiculous_! _How_ did Potter manage to just _fall_ into such good company (even if they were mostly wasting their skill). His parents must have _bathed_ him in Liquid Luck.

"Potter had them more loyal than even Bella." He filled Gellert in, then realised that the idiot had got himself caught in his own prison and likely knew… _nothing_. "My best lieutenant." he added, "I _suppose_ it shall be interesting to see what he does with them _this_ time."

Poor little Grindelwald… he really had _no_ idea the effect Potter had on… everything. Tom smirked.

"I hadn't thought Potter recruited."

"He is unaware that he does." It _had_ to be Liquid Luck. Maybe it got in his blood… although, no, because Tom sure hadn't got any after his rebirth. He scowled.

"Was."

It took a moment for Tom to follow, before his scowl grew fiercer. Aaaaand he was back to wanting to throttle Potter. It was _dangerous_ , not knowing what Potter had become, and how long he had had to become it. Potter was tight lipped on _anything_ post Tom's death… thinking of which, he _really_ wanted Potter to hurt. Throttling wasn't painful enough.

Tom glanced up, and noticed Gellert seemed riveted on his face.

"You are staring at me."

Merlin, he hoped that Gellert wasn't _attracted_ to Tom. Because Tom doubted that it would be useful for manipulation, so he had exactly _zero_ desire for such an outcome.

He was _still_ staring. Tom _hated_ emotions.

"What?" He demanded.

"How did you-" Gellert broke off, "Er… we have a double of potions, then Defence, right?"

 

Tom was instantly distracted.

_Severus_.

Damn it all. Tom hadn't thought he _could_ want someone more dead (and more painfully) than he did Potter.

Maybe he would blow up Severus' Potion supplies… for _starters_.

Actually…

"You're quite _good_ at Potions, so I hear." Well, no. Tom had heard that Gellert was good at _altering_ potions. They hardly gave first years anything _too_ dangerous… but Tom had heard of a potion Gellert had once made from the ingredients of truth serum. One dose had been better than six hours crucio, so they say. None of his Potion Masters could even _guess_ how he did it. Plus there was the blatant Alchemy turning their juice into Coffee each morning. ...Tom _needed_ to learn that.

"…Yes." Gellert was clearly cautious. Damn. It had really been a _long_ time since he had even had to put a half-hearted effort into pretending innocence. Still, playing friendly seemed to be working for Potter, even though they _knew_ he wasn't.

"I'll show you the way." Tom forced his face into a smile.

 

 

By the time they got to Potions, Gellert was clearly on high alert, and Tom was more than a _little_ bit annoyed when he slipped away to sit with Potter's mudblood amongst the lions. She was the only one on that side sitting alone, too, so Tom couldn't even follow him.

Bother.


	5. Potion Masters

Harry maintained a face of perfect innocence as he watched the Slytherin boys (other than himself, Tom and Gellert) come rushing into Potions late. Well, technically they were _just_ on time, but Snape had already arrived, and was looking _furious_. Amusingly, he said nothing, just jabbed his finger at the empty desks, and _slammed_ the door behind them. Draco looked like he was about to _cry_. _None_ of them looked like they had had time to shower or dress properly. Harry looked down to hide his smirk.

As Snape took the roll, he actually spat the late-boy's names with _almost_ as much vitriol as Harry had come to expect in his own name. He didn't hesitate, like all the other teacher's had, over Gellert's name, but _of course_ , he couldn't just ignore Harry.

"Ah, Yes," Snape said softly, and pausing dramatically "Harry Potter. Our new -- _celebrity_."

Harry bit his tongue, because as amusing as offering Snape a signature would be, the detentions wouldn't _really_ be worth it.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, but continued to call the Roll.

There was only Pansy, however, before he hesitated again. "Tom Riddle…" Harry, who had taken the seat next to a clearly seething Tom, could practically _feel_ Tom just _daring_ Snape to say something. However after a solid sneer, Snape moved on. Harry was a _little_ disappointed.

 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making, as there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death."

"Poetic." Harry breathed under his breath, amused. Tom shot him a look.

" _If_ ," Snape continued in a much louder voice, "you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione sitting on the edge of her seat in anticipation… next to _Gellert_. What the bloody hell was he doing over there? Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The Draught of Living Death. Though I believe there is also a potion for sending just a person's _magic_ 'to sleep', if you brew on Imbolc, and start with a brew of human tears, rather than water." Snape looked at Harry blankly, in utter shock. Amusingly _Tom_ also turned in his seat to _gape_ at Harry.

To be fair, it was an _extremely_ Dark Potion. Harry didn't care, _knowing_ about it wasn't illegal, and Harry could quite honestly say _he_ had never brewed it, nor owned a book it was in. Al, the little devil, had unfortunately _loved_ potions… and didn't discriminate their affinity _at all_. Harry blamed Ginny for naming him after Snape, his wife had been annoyingly enamoured with Snape… once he was _dead_.

Snape was clearly utterly thrown, but soon managed to pull his face into his usual sneer.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat."

"Sir." Snape corrected, clearly frustrated. Harry was _sorely_ tempted to reenact the smart-alec comment he was sure he had used on the Potion Master the last the around insisting he didn't need to call _Harry_ Sir. He resisted.

"The stomach of a goat, _Sir_." Harry smiled at Snape instead. Sirius said he had his dad's smile.

"Riddle!" Snape _shouted_ … which was ridiculous, as he was sitting _right next_ to where Snape was looming over Harry.

"Yes Sir?" Tom said, though with too much of a drawl to really be polite.

"What is the difference, Riddle, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape demanded.

"The time at which the plant is harvested." Tom easily replied. Though, honestly, Tom was likely just as good a brewer as Snape… it was why Harry had sat with him, after all, so he wasn't sure why Snape bothered.

Snape sneered down at them both. "Two points each to Slytherin."

Harry was fairly sure that, even though it was his own house, it physically _pained_ Snape to say that.

"Brown!" Snape barked, surprising Harry. "What time of year is best to harvest Pixie wings?"

Lavender's eyes were wide, and she glanced at Parvati. "I don't know, Sir."

"Hmm." Snape sneered. A seat behind Lavender, Hermione's hand, which had already waved furiously at each question, stretched even higher.

".:Why is Gellert sitting with Hermione?:." Harry hissed in Parseltongue under his breath at Tom, while Snape was distracted with pouncing on Dean, then Ron with ridiculous questions.

".:Worried about your mudblood?:." Tom sneered back.

Harry shrugged. Hermione, even at eleven, could probably look after herself, though Harry would step in if Gellert _really_ started using her.

"-…maybe you should ask _her_." Seamus glared at Snape. Harry winced as he caught the end of Seamus' answer, actually, if he remembered correctly _he_ had said the same thing, originally.

"Sit down," Snape suddenly snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Finnigan, _temperature_ is the most important part of a boils cure, and a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek."

Harry glanced over to see Hermione was _bright_ red, and Gellert was frowning at Snape.

Snape spun on the spot, barking at them that they should have copied all that down, before immediately starting them on a simple cure to cure boils. Presumably the one he had asked Seamus about.

 

Harry was surprised to find that he and Tom worked pretty much flawlessly together, neither of them even talking, Harry preparing the ingredients, while Tom prepared their cauldron, then taking turns adding things without comment. At the desk in front of him, Draco and Theodore Nott's potion was coming along fairly well, and Harry assumed that Gellert and Hermione would manage, but everyone else looked _extremely_ stressed, and only ten or so minutes in, Neville and Seamus' cauldron started letting off a thick black smoke, before melting entirely, exploding over them and spreading their potion across the floor.

Beside Harry, Tom flicked his wand, with what Harry recognised as anti-gravity mist - what he had run through in the triwizard maze - coming out the end, turning the flow entirely to the Gryffindor side of the room, where it began melting through people's shoes. Most of the Gryffindors started climbing on their chairs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape at Neville, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville, who was drenched in the potion, was too busy moaning in pain to pay Snape much mind. Snape turned his ire on Seamus, who had tiny boils from potion splash, but wasn't nearly so bad as Neville. "What did I _just_ tell you about temperature! That's another point you've lost from Gryffindor."

"Potter!" Snape yelled, spinning to face Harry, however before Harry could find out how creative Snape could be in somehow making this _Harry's_ fault, Hermione let out a dismayed moan, as her and Gellert's potion started putting out _purple_ smoke.

However before anything else could happen, Harry felt a wave of foreign magic, and instantly shielded against it. Beside him, Tom did the same. However upon seeing that the rest of his classmates now had bubble-head charms on, and realising that the magic had been Snape's spell, Harry quickly cast his own. Tom didn't, but he didn't seem fazed, so Harry assumed that he had other methods of not breathing in the presumably hostile purple smoke.

"OUT!" Snape bellowed, and with so much rage that the majority of the first years were moving before they could register. Harry glanced at Tom. Tom rolled his eyes, collecting a sample of their potion into a vial and labelling it before collecting his things - unlike their classmates, who had simply abandoned their own belongings.

Hermione and Gellert were just starting to leave, when Snape shot his arm out.

" _Not_ you two."

Harry felt a swell of sympathy for Hermione, but just collected his own bag and headed out.

 

* * *

 

Gellert _hated_ brewing.

Which was actually rather hilarious, as one of the things he had been known for was his amazing potions abilities. Gellert often wondered if he had been cursed as a child.

Potions, not that most people realised such, were _rituals_.

He sighed down at his potion, barely paying attention to their House-Master rousing on the poor boy who had blown up his potion. Beside him, the bushy haired girl from the boats was practically pulling out her frizzy hair trying to figure out why their potion had _dissolved_ the quills, and was rapidly turning into a thick paste.

Gellert was resigned.

He neatly chopped the frog spleens, just as the instructions said, and carefully added them every third stir _exactly_.

The potion began bubbling… despite no longer being above a flame. Gellert sighed.

Across the room, Potter and Riddle were partnered together. _Their_ potion was complete, _and_ looked exactly how it should. They were hissing at each other in snake again. Gellert pouted.

"Oh no." Beside him the girl, Granger _,_ started muttering under her breath, and stirring furiously. "Oh no oh no oh no no no no no-"

"POTTER!" their House master bellowed… Gellert _really_ needed to find out what the deal was there. Honestly, the man was a menace. Not that Potter and Riddle weren't both perfectly capable of dealing with the obvious offence the man took to them, but it was _thoroughly_ unprofessional. If he were one of Gellert's minions, he would _not_ have stood for it. Honestly, Albus had turned into a shrew! Torture the man into line… or at _least_ fire him. Ridiculous.

Beside him, Granger moaned.

Gellert turned his full attention back to the potion, and simultaneously sighed, while wandlessly charming the air between himself and the potion to circulate from the far side of the room. At least the House-Master was competent enough to recognise what Gellert had done to their brew, instantly giving every student in the room bubblehead charms.

Thick swirling smoke curled up out of their cauldron, quickly filling the room.

"OUT!" Snape yelled, but soon shot a arm out to stop himself and Granger from leaving. " _Not_ you two." He said, with a vicious glare. Beside him, Granger was vibrating on the spot, her head hung low.

"I'm _sorry_ Professor Snape-" she begun, but Gellert had taken a liking to her, so cut her off.

"We followed the instructions _exactly_ , and I don't even _have_ Re'em's blood here!"

"Then _how_ ," Snape sneered, "do you explain the concoction of strengthening mist!?"

Granger's eyes were wide, but she kept her mouth shut. Smart girl.

Gellert shrugged, but peered into the cauldron curiously. "I suppose it _is_ possible that the pewter in the cauldron isn't as pure tin as it should be, maybe too much copper… that _could_ react with trace elements of porcupine blood left on the quills… if the spleens were added every two and eight ninths of a turn, and the ground beetle's eyes were too fresh…"

Both Snape and Granger were staring at him, jaws dropped. Which looked rather comical, actually, as they both had huge bubbles covering their mouth and nose.

"Detention, Grindelwald! And an essay on the ramifications of inhaling strengthening mist without taking Argue essence first, from _both_ of you." Snape turned his back on them sharply and stalked over to the wall, pressing his wand into a rune that would cycle the air out. Mist potions were extremely volatile and often reacted poorly to vanishing spells.

"Dismissed!" Snape barked, when he turned and found them still there.

Granger practically _ran_ from the room, but Gellert collected his and Granger's belongings before strolling out. If the House-Master had an issue with that, it would be a simple matter of banishing his bubblehead charm.

 

Gellert found he wouldn't have to chase the chit down to return her gear, as immediately outside the door Potter had Granger grasped by one arm, and was clearly putting effort into calming her down. Upon getting closer, Gellert realised she was in tears. He scrunched his nose. _Women_.

 

* * *

 

Tom hexed the seat next to him, but was furious when Potter wandlessly banished his spell with a laugh, before sitting next to him. Damn it, there were _several_ spare seats. Tom contemplated moving, but as the rest of their dorm-mates hadn't arrived yet, Potter would likely just follow him.

Shamefully Tom resorted to muggle means, elbowing Potter _hard_ in the ribs, under pretence of setting up their cauldron.

Potter just _laughed again_.

 

Tom felt… miserable. And he was still angry at whatever Potter had done to their dorm room. For Mordred's sake Tom had tried an altered _and_ obscure _Albanian_ charm for an alarm and it _still_ didn't work! Tom only woke up on time because he set his bed's wards to shut off the warming charm he'd warded in at seven, but he still only woke up slowly, and late. He didn't bother waking the other brats, because… well, why _would_ he?

He was in a foul mood, and despite the coffee, Gellert still abandoned him for _Gryffindors_. Urgh! being in school again was a _bore_. He couldn't even go after the stone yet because he was fairly sure Dumbledore hadn't actually _placed_ it down the trapdoor yet.

Severus entered the room with unnecessary drama and a scowl for the missing Slytherins, and begun taking the attendance. Unlike their other teachers from first period each day this week, he at least didn't take points for their tardiness. Tom _would_ crucio Potter if he didn't at least _pretend_ for some House pride.

Fucking _Gryffindors_.

 

"Ah, Yes, Harry Potter. Our new -- _celebrity_."

Tom's fury switched back to Severus. That traitorous lying coward. His death would _not_ be painless. Even Nagini's painful and slow venom was not _nearly_ enough.

"Pansy Parkinson" Severus drawled next, having finished his issues with Potter. Tom would have to grill Potter on why on earth Severus had chosen _him_ when he clearly loathed him. The Parkinson girl simpered out a "Present, Professor Snape." and Tom's internal sneer almost leaked out, as his name was next.

"Tom Riddle…"

 _Weeks_. Tom decided, turning his attention back to Severus to discover him scowling.

Before Tom could even _reply_ however, Severus had the utter _gall_ to try and legilimise Tom. Not weeks, years. _Years_ of torture! Tom would clearly have to find alternate methods to that of horcruxes anyway, so he saw no harm in forcing Severus to make one… that way he wouldn't have worry about accidentally killing him while torturing him.

Tom specifically fed Severus false childhood memories that he knew would trigger various moment's of shame for Severus. Things that parodied some of his failures as a Death Eater… though _subtly_ , because he still had to get the stone before he could enjoy giving out his punishments.

Severus, the traitor, masked his reaction completely, and moved on to the last few names in the roll.

Beside him, Tom could _feel_ Potter's amusement.

"Poetic." Potter commented, as Severus made an overly dramatised ode to Potions. Tom shot Potter a look, a little surprised to find that the sarcastic remark had actually improved Tom's mood some. Maybe, if Severus' reasoning had to do with Potter, he could trick the brat into getting in on the torture… clearly Potter didn't like Severus either. He usually had to imperio loved ones into torturing.

 

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Severus demanded, looming over their table. Tom carefully maintained a mild smile and interested look.

…Right up until Potter spoke of the _Traitamus Potion_!!! That was a _Black_ Art… it wasn't even just _Dark_. Tom's plots for Severus were totally derailed, thoroughly distracted. What the hell _happened_ to Potter after his death!?! Because _on top_ of _sealing_ away one's _magic_ , that potion also involved 'blood of a tortured virgin' and a fire set by burning unicorn's bones in the brewing!!!

What. The. Hell.

"Let's try again. Potter," Snape said, clearly trying not to alert any of the 'innocent' first years to Potter's _outrageous_ statement, but also clearly thrown. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat." Potter answered with a smile, looking _proud_ of the answer.

Tom's amusement flared, as Severus was clearly frustrated.

"Sir." Severus spat.

"The stomach of a goat, _Sir_." Potter dutifully repeated.

"Riddle!" Severus turned on Tom, as Potter clearly _wasn't playing_.

"Yes, … _Sir_." Tom drawled.

"What is the difference, Riddle, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Tom resisted rolling his eyes. "The time in which the plant is harvested." _and_ the many potions it is used for, including the shift in affinities… actually, Tom was relatively sure there was a _lovely_ potion that made the ingester re-live their worst memory over and over, not unlike the effects of a dementor… perhaps Tom would use it on Severus.

Severus had a resigned look to him at their correct answers.

"Two points each to Slytherin."

Well that is what he gets for quizzing _his Lord_ on first year potions. Damn it all, Tom would find a way to make Severus his _slave_. _That_ would be fitting.

 

".:Why is Gellert sitting with Hermione?:." Potter asked, when Severus had moved onto the Gryffindors.

A small part of Tom was secretly _thrilled_ to have someone else _human_ to speak in Parseltongue with… He forcibly squished it down, though, pulling a sneer onto his face.

".:Worried about your mudblood?:." Because of course that person would just _have_ to be _Potter_.

On the other side of the room The mudblood was waving her hand around like a loon, as if Severus was blind. Cretin. His brow furrowed, as he saw Gellert whisper to Granger with a smile. It _was_ suspicious that Gellert had latched on to the _same_ mudblood Potter had originally.

 

"We will be brewing a simple boils cure. One cauldron to a pair. The instructions are on the board." Severus flicked his wand and said instructions appeared. Tom flicked his eyes down the list and withheld a sigh. _First year_.

He begun setting the cauldron to the right height and filling it to the right level. Beside him, Potter surprisingly didn't comment, starting to measure the ingredients and prepare them. From his _own_ store, too.

They _still_ didn't speak, and flawlessly fell into a rhythm, taking turns and brewing the cure. Well, at least Potter was a better partner than Avery had been. Tom had only put up with his classmate because Slughorn was flush over Avery's father's recent and continuing successes on the international Duelling circuit.

Tom sneered across the room at Severus' back where he was leering over a Gryffindor's chopping. Slughorn may have been a pain, but at least he was _useful_.

 

Tom didn't pay attention as one of the Gryffindor's spoilt their brew, simply casting a spell for anti-gravity mist that altered the magical level of the floor _just_ enough that any spillage wouldn't bother him, or any other Slytherin. Potter was distracted, no doubt worried for his little lion friends, but they were actually done, so Tom ignored that and begun bottling a sample. He wasn't even _aware_ that anything extraordinary had occurred until he felt Severus' magic try and spell him.

He was instantly furious, and about to crucio the man (damn the philosophers stone!), when he registered exactly what the spell was. Tom instantly rerouted his magic to compensate for providing oxygen and _stopped_ breathing all together.

His eye twitched when he realised Gellert had created a brewed mist. _That_ would have been easy to manipulate into an explosion that could have been the first _downpayment_ on Severus' punishment.

When Severus told them to leave, Tom did so ( _after_ bottling their sample, because he was quite sure Severus would give them a zero afterwards otherwise, and he _needed_ to maintain his temper around the man long enough to fetch the stone first).

 

However while Potter left the classroom happily, he _waited_ for his mudblood, and set about coddling her as she burst into tears. Tom cast one disgusted look at the pair and stormed off.

 

 


	6. The Unbreakable Vows

"Sir?" Potter asked, an overly bright smile on his face and his hand in the air. Sitting next to Gellert, Riddle flicked out his wand and turned it on Potter's back under the desk with a quiet growl. Potter must have anticipated this, however, as the sickly-orange spell was absorbed into a shield presumably placed on Potter's chair. There was _definitely_ something going on between Potter, Riddle and this professor.

At the front of their defence classroom, their professor startled violently, and looked visibly ill at seeing Potter in attendance. "P-p-p-potter!? Ye-es?"

Gellert hid a sneer, this man was a _mess_. He shouldn't be teaching cheering charms, let alone the ins-and-outs of the nasties of their world.

Potter seemed un-perturbed.

"I was just wondering, sir, where you got your lovely turban?"

 

Gellert instantly became four times more suspicious of what he _had_ just thought was an obscure fashion statement. Though Potter could just be stirring.

Potter had already started the afternoon by picking a fight with some elder Hufflepuff students waiting outside Transfiguration in the hall. Potter seemed to thrive on poking the badger's nest… and the snake's nest… actually. Not to mention whatever their defence professor qualified as. It seemed to Gellert that if there was a nest to be had, Potter would be poking it. Judging by Riddle's stress levels, Gellert was still waiting for a fallout from those red-haired twins. Gellert eyed the boy from the train, sitting four desks over, who could _only_ be their brother. Gellert weighed up how much hassle it would be to charm the rude boy back over, and whether or not he would be useful in protective services, presumably those twins were a menace at home too, and the boy had clearly survived them thus far.

 

"It was g-g-given t-to me b-by an African p-p-prince as a t-t-thank-you for g-getting r-rid of a t-t-t-troublesome zom-b-bie." Professor Quirrell's voice broke through Gellert's musings.

 

A… _Zombie_.

Gellert sneered. Well, now he knew why this man had been teaching _muggle studies_ until two years ago. Gellert mused how much trouble he would get in for bringing an _Inferius_ to the next class. Riddle seemed to type to know where the nearest graveyard stood.

Then again, there was that unfortunate experience with the dead ducks in his late teens that Gellert was _still_ trying not to think about.

Maybe if he could convince _Riddle_ to do the raising ritual?

 

"P-p-p-p-please g-g-get ou-out y-y-your b-b-boo-b-books," Quirrell took a deep breath "and p-p-p-put away y-your w-wands."

 

The lesson only went down hill from there. From what he could understand (which wasn't much, as the blatantly put-on stutter was indecipherable even in the rare moments the man raised his voice past the volume of a dormouse!) they would be studying exactly _four_ practical spells over the _entire year_ (Four!!), instead focusing on the history of banned spells. Judging by the fact that the introduction hadn't even _mentioned_ the existence of the _unforgivables_ , Gellert didn't hold much hope for History of Magic maintaining it's position as his least-favorite class. At least _it_ was (so-far) accurate, even if the ghost was obsessed with Goblins.

 

What the _hell_ was Albus even _doing_ here!? It had to be a plot of some sort to limit education, or else Gellert thought Albus must _actually_ have lost his mind. Unless… unless he didn't _know_? Was it _possible_ to run a school without ever knowing the content of one's professor's classes. Gellert found that _fairly_ unlikely, because his Highmaster had been quite clear on where Gellert _hadn't_ learnt his experiments, when he got expelled from Durmstrang. Hogwarts was meant to be one of the best (if rather heavily Light) magical schools around!

 

Gellert dutifully took notes… more as proof of the idiocy they had to endure than actual intention to ever read over them. In the seat to Gellert's left, Riddle had taken to hexing Potter's chair throughout the lesson, trying to get through his shield. Assumably for fun more than actual intent, as Potter didn't seem to suffer any ill-effects, nor retaliate past a few mild glares. Across the isle, to Gellert's right, a dark skinned Gryffindor boy, whose name Gellert hadn't caught (he tuned out of the role-call after B-b-b-b-boot T-t-t-t-terry, and only answered to his own name because Riddle poked him), had drawn a rather good caricature of Quirrell being swallowed by a turban with giant teeth. Gellert contemplated a switching spell to the chalk board at the front of the room, but shuddered at the idea of a detention full of one-on-one stutters.

Potter was sitting next to Granger, who had at least gotten over her crying, and was now, rather impressively, managing to both diligently take notes, _and_ also constantly stare with a morbid sort of horror at the disaster that was their professor. She didn't seem to need to look where she was writing to stay on the lines, which was mildly impressive.

Potter had, if Gellert understood correctly, cast a protean charm on Granger's notebook to his own, and wasn't paying any attention at all.

 

Gellert was rather jealous _he_ hadn't thought of that.

 

The class seemed to drag on four hours, and Gellert eventually gave in on trying to follow, and instead sunk into a meditation. It wasn't like he _needed_ to study _first year_ defence, though at some stage he would have _words_ with Albus about the disservice he was giving to the magical nation by allowing such an idiot to teach. Gellert decided to use the rest of the class to try and get a further read on Hogwart's wards, see if he couldn't find out if they were tied into Albus specifically. That would make sneaking into Albus' bedchambers rather more difficult, but Gellert couldn't see how he was going to manage stealing _his_ wand back while Albus was _awake_. Of course, he couldn't do much delving with Potter and Riddle so close by, they would pick up on any big magical swells immediately. He was still fairly sure they weren't after the wand, but at this stage he suspected it would actually be harder to steal it off one of them, rather than off Albus, so he wasn't going to be idle and let them get there first on a guess.

 

* * *

 

"H-homework is t-t-t-two f-feet on the d-d-d-dangers of d-d-dark forests. D-d-d-due T-t-t-tuesday."

The class practically apperated out of their seats, so keen to get out of the classroom. Gellert must have been day-dreaming, because it was only someone bumping their desk on the way past that got him moving.

He hesitated, when it became obvious Tom wasn't getting up to leave, but a glance at Potter, and Gellert seemed to perk up and scuttle off. That was suspicious, but Tom was more interested in Potter _not leaving_.

Gellert shut the classroom door behind him at least.

 

"B-b-boys, c-c-can I help y-you?"

Tom ignored Quirrell entirely, and turned on Potter. "Weren't you just _leaving_ , Potter?"

Potter raised one eyebrow, then stretched out over his chair, swinging it back onto it's back legs and crossing his hands behind his neck. It was a blatantly smug declaration, and Tom cast a tendon-twister at him in _fury_ before he could even think. Tom felt only a small second of satisfaction when it actually _hit_ , before he felt his knee dislocate in response.

"Oh _fuck you_." He swore, he _hated_ when people messed with his knees. Besides, dislocations _hurt_.

"Boys!" Quirrel snapped, half shocked, and half not-so-secretly _pleased_. Tom caught the look on Potter's face, and knew _neither_ of them had missed the lack of stutter.

" _Leave_." Tom snarled at Potter, silently strapping his knee back into place and ignoring Quirrell again.

"And miss the _show_?" Potter said, massaging his thigh where Tom's spell hit, but at least standing up out of his laze. "Not on your _life_ , Riddle."

Quirrell had fallen silent, and was watching them both rather more warily now.

"Y-y-you are d-dissmissed, P-potter. I need a w-word w-with R-Riddle."

"No."

Tom was more than familiar with the rage that passed over Quirrell's face at Potter's blatant refusal.

"Potter-" Tom started, but trailed off, as Potter cast some sort of warding spell on the room. Tom was _familiar_ with Potter's magic. More familiar than with anyone else's. So he could tell what type of magic every single spell Potter cast was. That ward was _Dark_. Again, what the hell _happened_ to Potter after he died?"

"No," Potter drawled, "I think I'll stay and watch, thanks. I want to know whether Voldie here has a heart attack trying to decide whether to kill himself or to share. It'll be _fun_."

Tom closed his eyes and pinched his nose.

Quirrell let out a scream, and instantly started casting spells at Potter.

 

How was this Tom's life?!

Honestly, what he wouldn't give to be able to go back and _throttle_ Trelawney on her way to that pub. He was hardly the _first_ Dark Lord around. Why did _he_ have to get landed with _Potter_?

Tom opened his eyes and let out a sigh. Quirrell was duelling hard and fast, but Potter was… well, Tom could be honest. Potter was _playing_.

Tom sat back down at his desk and put his chin in his hand.

He wasn't even sure what he wanted, from this meeting. He hadn't _actually_ decided to come clean. Trust Potter to ruin that for him.

Tom trailed the duel with his eyes. He knew all the spells Quirrell was casting, obviously. Voldemort was in charge of the body right now, and Tom knew everything he knew. Occasionally Potter would throw something different in, however.

 

It was …hard, for Tom to get his head around the idea that Potter wasn't the same luck-riddled _child_ who beat him by trickery and inordinate luck. Still, Tom found that he could almost… well, not _like_ Potter. Tom didn't like anybody. But this Potter was ...tolerable.

Probably because he was so blatantly _Dark_. Also blatantly _not_ Dumbledore's pawn. Which was nice.

Still. That was _Tom's_ alter-ego Potter was besting.

 

".:ENOUGH!:." Tom yelled in Parseltongue. It was enough to distract both of the idiots sharing the room with him, and time enough for him to cast a international duelling ward between the two of them. They both shot him eerily similar scowls. He contemplated squishing both of them with said wards, and just being done with the whole thing, but there was a fair chance that he wouldn't manage, and better to have them at each _other's_ throats, rather than both after his.

 

"Perhaps, just for something novel, we could try talking?"

Potter shot his a distinctly unimpressed look, which… fair. It _was_ rather hypocritical. But the only people who cared about being hypocritical were those that cared what others thought of them. Tom was not one of those people. If being a hypocrite got him what he wanted, then he didn't see the issue.

 

* * *

 

Harry almost _pouted_ when Tom stuck his foot in their duel. He really hadn't got to _play_ for quite some time. Maybe in the holidays he would get his hands on some ageing potion and try his hand at the international circuit. Or talk Tom and Gellert into some showing off in the Slytherin common-room again.

"Perhaps, just for something _novel_ ," Tom drawled, "we could try _talking_?"

Oh _that_ was rich. Still, while that _had_ been diverting, Harry had a _plan_ in coming here. Other than simply stopping Tom and Voldemort from ganging up on him (and on the world too, he supposed).

 

"I suggest some unbreakable vows." Harry offered.

"I r-r-really d-d-don't know-"

"Oh for-" _the love of the Gods!_ Harry yanked on his own hair to stop himself swearing and starting another duel. "Right, just to get it out there. You, Quirrell, are possessed by Lord Voldemort, because you went to an Albanian forest and didn't know better than to poke your nose where you shouldn't." Harry ignored the offended look on Quirrel's face, and pushed on. "Your body can't sustain two souls, so you are both here for the philosophers stone, and are getting by on Unicorn blood in the mean time."

"Actually," Tom cut in, "they don't start on the blood until November."

Harry cut him a sneer for the interrupting. "Me and Tommy here, who _yes_ **_that_** _Tom Riddle_ , are both some sort of time-slash-universe travellers. I am quite unsure which. Tom is presumably _also_ here for the stone, so you can have _that_ argument later. I don't care."

"And what are _you_ here for, Potter?" Tom cut in. Quirrellmort was remaining silent, though to be fair, that was a fair amount of dumped secrets and hints of information to swallow.

"Amusement." Harry answered. Which was… _mostly_ true.

"Not the stone?" Tom pressed.

"Nah, I'm not afraid of dying, and gold isn't _that_ hard to come up with, given: magic. Most wizards are just idiots."

Tom took his answer at face value. He had, after all, seen Harry willingly walk to his death, and Harry had long since discovered that Voldemort funded the majority of his war by scamming muggles. Everyone had just _assumed_ he was funded by the likes of Lucius, and never actually bothered looking into it.

Plus, Tom still saw Harry as a Gryffindor-golden-boy.

Idiot.

 

"What sort of vows?" Voldemort asked. Notibly _not_ agreeing, but curious enough. Harry smirked.

"No killing me _this school year_. I'll promise not to steal the philosopher's stone. You can promise not to intentionally kill _any_ students. I'll promise not to kill you," Harry glanced at Tom, "or Tom, _this school year_. In fact, we can just put a year-limit on all the vows, between now and next September, and we can all re-negotiate at the end of the year if we want to."

"What is stopping me from killing you now, and getting what I want?" Voldemort bluffed.

Harry rolled his eyes and began counting on his fingers. "That duel, the fact that you are weakened in Quirrel's body, the fact that you aren't sure what a killing curse would even do - I have a hint, ask Tom - and the fact that, of the three of us, you're the only one who doesn't know the full prophecy and what that could mean."

"And what make you think that I wouldn't ally with _Tom Riddle_?"

Harry smirked, but admitted "I don't." but then he specifically paused long enough for Quirrellmort to smugly open his mouth, before cutting in "But I _do_ know that _Tom_ currently doesn't have enough to gain in order to ally with _you_."

They both glanced at Tom, who glared at Harry… but also didn't contradict him. Harry cast a ward on the Room of Requirement the first day here, and Tom hadn't gone in yet. If he were interested in protecting Voldemort, and thus the horcruxes, he would have collected the diadem straight away. Surprisingly, in a room of himself and two Voldemorts, for once, Harry actually held all the advantages.

It was a strange feeling.

 

There was a long pause.

"What of protecting the other teachers?"

Harry knew he'd won, but bit down on his smirk. Voldemort was just the sort of bastard who would cut off his nose to spite his face… and yes, Harry went there.

 

 

There was some negotiating of terms. Plus Harry could only take vows with Tom, because touching Quirrell would see him turn to ash. but in the end, the whole things was remarkably civil.

None of them would intentionally kill any of the others, though making their lives difficult wasn't excluded. None of them would kill any other students, but the staff and anyone else were fair game. Harry proposed that, both because he would rather not spend his evening arguing with them both about Dumbledore, and because he would only put up with Binns for so long, and wasn't quite sure how a ghost would count. Harry swore he wouldn't steal the philosophers stone. Quirrell and Tom both glared at each other, and didn't make _any_ promises about the stone. Harry was _not_ interested in that argument. Voldemort insisted that Tom and Harry swore to tell him if they knew someone suspected him and to actively try and prevent him being found out. Harry at least argued it down to if the _staff_ suspected him _enough to significantly act_. He then promptly announced that Snape suspected him because of his fake stutter. Tom then wasted (in Harry's opinion) almost a full half-hour trying to convince Quirrellmort to ease off the stuttering. He failed. Harry probably didn't help by pointing out that Tom did the same thing in their original go-through. All of these vows had a time restriction of 'between the time all three of us leaving this classroom, and September 2nd next year'.

 

Finally, once the temporary truce was vowed, Harry gave up the prophecy. Which, it turned out, Tom hadn't ever managed to steal from Harry's dreams, so actually of the three of them _only_ Harry knew it. Fortunately, Harry had a fairly reasonable response.

 

"So, either must die at the hand of the other. Well, Tom, have I died at your hand?"

"Yes."

Harry smirked, "and have you died at mine?" He tried, really he did, to keep the _smugness_ out of his voice. …okay, maybe he didn't try _that_ hard.

" _Yes_." Tom gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Right then. Prophecy completed. Null and void. Done."

"Except that-" Voldemort started

" _Look_ ," Harry cut him off, "either it is right, and somehow we'll both die by each other's hand _again_ no _matter_ trying to avoid it, in which case you should _really_ make sure you die first, because _trust me_ being second works out better, oooor," Harry half-sung, dodging Tom's hex, "the prophecy is wrong, so nothing will happen if we both just ignore it."

 

There was more argument over that, but Harry kind of tuned most of it out, because Tom actually took the 'ignoring-it' side. In the end Quirrelmort agreed to discuss it later, given the vows to not kill each other _this_ year. Interestingly, Tom specifically steered the conversation away from Harry being a horcrux, and spouted a branch of the Gaunt family tree and shamelessly squished Harry into it when Quirrelmort demanded to know about the Parseltongue. (They had also argued for some time over what language to speak the vows in, eventually settling on Parseltongue, in case someone broke into their heads. Harry assumed they both meant in case someone broke into _Harry's_ head, because Harry was the _only_ person to have broken into theirs, and he had a cheat-code. Harry was actually _far_ better at Occlumency than either of them, now, but he was hardly sharing secrets _for free_ , so he kept his mouth shut as it really didn't effect him either way.)

 

All in all, Harry thought it was an _extremely_ productive afternoon.


	7. Tea with Hagrid

They had History again last on a Friday afternoon. A dangerous time to put it, as even _less_ people would be paying attention each week. Hell, Tom was fairly sure that the Hufflepuffs up the back had all charmed, or presumably had upper-years charm, open-eyes over their own and were just sleeping. Which Tom _would_ do… if Potter wasn't in the class. Because falling asleep when Potter was around without the _numerous_ wards, like Tom had set up in their dorm, sounded like a _terrible_ idea. Though perhaps he could ward his chair. God, Binns had been bad enough when he was _alive_.

The day dragged.

 

Potter was too perky. Tom was suspicious.

 

… And also mad. He hadn't settled on how to deal with his counter-part, and  _had_ planned just to feel things out. Their encounter had _not_ gone according to any plan. Potter, always sticking his nose in. Tom eyed a differen't Hufflepuff, building a paper plane, and wandlessly animated it into a paper dragon that immediately set to attacking Potter. He got some _small_ amusement out of the look of horror on the Hufflepuff girl's face (it is the small things in life). She had been trying to animate it, and obviously though _she_ had somehow caused it. Fool. As if she had the skill.

Potter, obviously, knew _exactly_ who to blame. At least the thing singed some of his hair first, but Potter just shot Tom an annoyed look, and somehow persuaded the now-dragon to fly back over the the Hufflepuff.

Tom's eyes narrowed.

 

Potter was too perky.

 

It couldn't _just_ be about the vows with his counter-part, either. Tom wasn't stupid, and this _new_ Potter was _dangerous_. Tom could _probably_ kill him, if he _really_ put his mind to it… though it hardly seemed worth it, considering he knew of _three_ times Potter had survived death before … assuming that Potter _had_ died before they were all brought back. Regardless, he was fairly certain Potter hadn't _needed_ those vows. It was highly suspicious. Actually, Potter's whole _presence_ was highly suspicious. Gellert was presumably here to harass Dumbledore, and probably chasing that wand, if his pathetic attempt at 'subtle' questions were anything to go by. But why _Potter_ was here, Tom had no idea. Tom wanted the stone, and to kill the old fool (the wand would just be a bonus). He _had_ planned on killing Potter too, though if he wasn't going to get in Tom's way, Tom _supposed_ could let him live. Tom _was_ still angry about his last death… but he was willing to push all that hatred on to Dumbledore if _this_ Potter was controllable. Also, Tom was _fuming_ over how vague the fucking prophecy was. He was beginning to suspect foul play, too, because that thing had made him _obsessed_. This time around he was just mildly annoyed. Like he said, _suspicious_.

 

The bell rang ( _finally_ ) for the end of the day, and Potter perked up _more_.

"Would you like to accompany me to Hagrid's?" Potter asked, _cheerfully_. Tom narrowed his eyes, as though an afternoon taunting the half-breed _did_ sound enjoyable enough, he couldn't understand what Potter would get out of it.

Potter stumbled getting out of his chair, and shot what looked to be a heat spell at his thigh. At least there was _some_ pleasure to be had, though Tom _would_ kill him if he had to keep the damn knee brace on past this afternoon.

"Was that a healing spell?" Gellert inquired, though it didn't really sound like he cared.

Potter shot Tom a scathing look.

 

"Are you coming, or not?"

Tom shrugged, but Gellert seemed keen enough.

"Hagrid's the half-giant, right? Has he got any tribal connections?" Gellert asked.

"A half-brother, though he doesn't know about him, and for the Gods sake _do not_ tell him. Last time he brought Gwarp _here_. You can imagine how well _that_ went."

 

Tom hadn't known that. Though he wasn't _at all_ surprised. The half-breed clearly took the brains from his mother's side. Hell, Tom had framed him for _petrifying_ students with an _acromantula_. Tom hadn't even expected it to _work_ , he had honestly just been stalling. All the idiot had to do was admit to keeping one. They _might_ have hunted it down, sure, but it was a _pet_. Hagrid had spent a _year_ in Azkaban for it, been expelled, and never had a wand since.

 

"Do you know which tribe?" Gellert asked, as they started down the hall.

"No idea. Hagrid's mum, the giant-half, was called Fridwulfa, and it was somewhere in Eastern Europe, I think. Do you know, Tom?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell would I know?" And, a better question, why should he _care_?

"Well _your_ DeathEaters were trying to recruit the tribe." Potter rolled his eyes.

"I was trying to recruit _all_ the tribes, Potter." Not that there were that many these days. It was probably that Slovenian tribe.

"I didn't much like the giants, myself." Gellert added.

Tom _bet_ he didn't. There had been that battle he took giants to, where the tribe abandoned the wizard's because of internal squabble over the new Gurg, causing chaos and rather a lot of death and destruction. "1933." Tom said, rather smugly. Gellert flinched.

"Merlin that was a _terrible_ August."

"Just a reminder," Potter waved his hands in the most ridiculous fashion to catch their attention. "Binns is pretty much the only history education I've had."

Gellert groaned, uncomfortably, which was the only reason Tom indulged Potter.

" _How_ many wizards did you lose again?" Tom prompted, then sent Potter a conspiratorial smirk (and wasn't _that_ weird) "The giants battled amongst themselves, wiping out the majority of Gellert's army, _and_ the base he had been building. Turkey, wasn't it?"

"Iraq. They were _meant_ to stay in Turkey. Apparently the Gurg was from an Iraqi tribe originally and western Turkey was 'close enough' to head over and pick a fight with his father. We blamed the whole thing on the muggles, of course, but it was a pain. Plus Adolf, that muggle, was smug over a whole heap of his own advancements in July. It took a _lot_ to keep his nose out of things. I am still fairly sure he was a squib with _connections_."

" _Muggles_." Tom sneered.

Potter opened his mouth to comment, but they had reached the entry hall and they got split up as there was a fair crowd heading out to enjoy the afternoon sun.

 

They reformed on the sloped path down to Ogg's old hut, but didn't talk more. Tom hadn't had much to do with the old gamekeeper, except when Malfoy got drunk and bet Rosier he could ride a thestral blindfolded. Even then Tom hadn't been in his _hut_. He _had_ gone into the garden and dragged the two drunk idiots back to the common room, but that was as close as he's got. Ogg had been an easy manipulate, so Tom hadn't paid him much attention.

 

Potter cheerfully knocked on the door and from the other side of it came the sound of barking and pots clattering.

"Back Fang – Back!" Came the half-breed's voice through the door.

".:If that thing slobbers on me I'll poison it:." Tom hissed. Potter just rolled his eyes and cast a spell on him. Tom blocked it at first, but it turned out to be a cleanliness barrier, so he let it settle.

Still, watching the half-breed's smile fade to a tense grimace when he opened the door and saw who Potter had brought with him _did_ lighten Tom's day.

 

" _Oh_." the half-breed winced. "Yeh … yeh brought _friends_."

"I hope that's alright?" Potter beamed, perfect innocent-face on full view. Tom could appreciate the acting.

"Good afternoon, Professor Hagrid." Tom smiled. He could picture Dumbledores horror now. _'You had **who** over to tea Hagrid!?'_ Tom _needed_ to get a spy in that office.

"It _is_ okay that I brought them, right?" Potter scuffed his foot on the top stair and looked meek. Tom watched on, impressed, as the half-breed all but melted.

"Of course 't is. Come on in."

There was only the single room, and game and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, making it feel even more cramped. Tom had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Dumbledore always bragged about his support of the down-trodden, but apparently an expansion ward was beyond him. They squished in around the only table, and the giant dog dropped it's head into a startled Gellert's lap and started to drool.

 

"This is Gellert, and my new best friend, Tom." Potter beamed. Tom's eye twitched. _Damn_.

He then, while Potter and the oaf exchanged plesentries, Tom almost broke a tooth on one of the rock-cakes and was just about ready to murder Potter and the Half-breed both, vows-be-damned, when he noticed an article on the table, half buried under the plate of 'pastries'.

 

**_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_ **

_**Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you", said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon.** _

 

Damn it all, but he still needed the damn stone. This all could have gone _so_ differently if he'd gotten his hands on that vault number just one single day earlier.

Feeling a swell of frustration, Tom cut off whatever Potter was about to say. "Have you been the game-keeper long?"

Hagrid puffed up, looking about to explode, but Potter cut in to temper him. Internally, Tom pouted.

"He's the keeper of the _keys_ too."

Which _what_? Hogwarts didn't _have_ keys. The gates and main door were Mechi-magical and the rest was all tied in to the wards.

 

"I say," Gellert interrupted Tom's plotting, "is that Balanese Bedwang shell? I thought those were extinct."

"It's not just shell. That's a Bedwang turtle." said Potter.

Tom followed Gellert's hungry gaze to the shell in question. "They are quite expensive." Also _heavily_ licensed. They had been near-extinct, in Gellert's time, and were still fairly rare. He glanced back at Hagrid, who was looking decidedly shady. There was _also_ a Saharan Singing scorpion in the enclosure and now that Tom was looking at them, if you added the two together, along with something like a slug, it would likely breed out to something along the lines of the monstrosities Barty had told him about in Potter's fourth year.

"Are you cross-breeding?" Tom asked, carefully hiding is glee. " _Harry_ is interested in creature-breeding."

Judging by the absolutely filthy look Potter shot him as soon as the half-breed turned his back, that was strike one for Tom. Tom pulled a pumpkin pastry from his pocket while the half-breed's focus was on the pest-enclosure, casting an illusion over it to look like the rock-cakes. Perhaps this afternoon could be profitable after all. Tom wondered just how far he could push Potter into the dangerous-adventure-breeding because he was too weak to hurt the oaf's feelings.

* * *

* * *

_Why_ Harry thought it had been a good idea to bring Tom and Gellert, he couldn't quite remember. Though twisting carefully between Tom's manipulations and hurting Hagrid's feelings did stretch his brain a bit at least. Which needed to happen or Harry would die of boredom. At least there was a bit of mischief to be had.

Gods but school was _boring_.

Binns _had_ to go, too.

Actually, despite there being a relatively high chance of torture and death, Harry was extremely grateful for having the other two Dark Lords along for the ride. Not that he wouldn't have just manipulated the twins a bit more and found some more minions, but Harry felt much better about dragging two Dark Lords along to be taunted and tested than he did _actual_ children. Watching Fang drool in Gellert Grindelwald's lap had to be an experience worth having.

 

"I could give yeh extra lessons, if you wanted, Harry?" Hagrid offered, after Tom threw Harry under the bus with glee.

"I will have to come to you for a tutor once I'm in _third_ year." Harry forced himself to smile at Hagrid. He was sure he could come up with a sob-story to avoid Care of Magical creatures by then. Because while dragons and cerburuses and hippogryffs were all very well, Harry _would_ poison any skrewts he came across. And so-help-him he would _burn_ Aragog and his extended family to the ground, even if it meant he had to take the Forbidden Forest with them. Follow the fucking spiders.

Aaaaand there it was. The reason he hadn't felt _that_ bad about bringing Tom along.

Harry liked Hagrid, he did … but Hagrid was also a complete fool. _Dangerous_ because he was a fool. Still, he couldn't predict the year, and better to have a reasonable explanation for where he got the knowledge to get past Fluffy if it ever came up. _Not_ that Harry planned on going down the trap-door.

 

"I say! Is that-" Geller started, but was cut off.

"How have yeh lessons been?" Hagrid asked, desperately trying to change the topic away from Gellert's interest in the black-market beasts trade. Fortunately, for Hagrid, he picked a good subject. Gellert had made his passionate opinion on Hogwarts low standards quite clear at _least_ three or four times a day so far.

"Lessons!" Gellert hurumphed, instantly riled up. "If you can even class them as such! Hogwarts had _horrible_ standards! Binns is utterly useless, Quirrell is scared of his own shadow, and Snape is the most incompetent bully I've come across in years! I do not know _what_ Al-… Dumbledore is _thinking_."

"Dumbledore is a great man!" Hagrid bristled.

"Yes yes." Gellert easily agreed. "But he must have gone senile in his old age if he thinks these are acceptable education standards. What happened to his passion for knowledge!? And the importance of education for wizards!? It is _ridiculous_!!!"

"Er…" Hagrid deflated.

"Do you know Binns didn't even _react_ to mine or Potter's names. Ghosts are obsessed with their trials, the things holding them from going on. A ghost is _never_ going to learn modern history!"

" _Are_ you related to Grindelw-" Hagrid started on the question no one else had been game enough to ask, but Tom cut him off.

"To be fair, I heard Binns was a pretty terrible history professor _before_ he died."

"He _was_ awful worried about the Goblins." Hagrid hedged. "But I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't keep him on if he didn't teach yeh right."

 

Harry blinked. Huh, he hadn't thought about when Binns died. More recently than he thought, obviously.

 

"Goblins are only _really_ dangerous because we let them control the stock market anyway." Gellert continued, now on a roll.

"Well I don' know abou' that." Hagrid hedged. "Clever as they come, Goblins, but not the most friendly of beasts."

Harry wondered if Goblins had done something to Hagrid at some point, because he remembered him warning Harry off them in both timelines, when taking him to Gringotts. Although maybe he just called them 'beasts' to their face… Harry could not see that _ever_ ending well.

"They _are_ master warders too, I suppose. No place safer, so they say." Gellert hummed.

Tom cleared his throat… and the clutter on the table. Gellert blinked down at the revealed paper on the break-in with surprise. Harry's lip twitched. He had forgotten about that. Still, it was only _fair_ to put Gellert on the same footing.

"I say, Hagrid, we were there on the 31st. Didn't _you_ empty a vault?"

Harry could see Gellert becoming instantly interested and suspicious at Hagrid tensing up and looking shifty.

"What!?! No. I mean-…"

 

Dangerous, for being a fool. Still, Hagrid was kind-hearted enough, so Harry would stop Tom from playing _too_ meanly.

 

 

 

"Spiffing evening." Gellert said, rubbing his hands together for warmth in the cool evening air an hour later, a wandless warming charm added in. "Nice fellow, if a little slow. He _must_ have connections, though, it wasn't just the live specimens in there. He had unicorn hair drying, and what looked to be shed Centuar fur in a jar. Not to mention the Acromantula silk sheets on his bed."

"That thing is still _alive_?" Tom startled, shooting Harry a horrified look. "They aren't native at _all_. There'll be a whole colony by now!"

"Worried for the school children, Tom?" Harry teased.

Tom huffed. "There are rare plants and small fauna in the Forbidden Forest. There _is_ reasoning behind the control of magical creatures, Potter."

"Wait, do you mean to say he's got a whole nest of Acrumantula!?" Gellert asked gleefully. "Never mind the silk, do you know how _useful_ the venom is?"

Harry rolled his eyes. " _Tempus_." It was six fifteen. "As _thrilling_ as your plots for a Hogwarts black-market supplies empire is, I actually have somewhere to be. Don't wait up."

 

Harry simultaneously cast invisibility and a strong notice-me-not on himself, then slunk off towards the east entrance to the school before Tom or Gellert could reply. Surely they wouldn't get into _too_ much trouble before bed if left alone. Harry was late for the twins. Though they had likely been watching him on the map, so they should still be there.

Sure enough, upon reaching the east courtyard and ditching the notice-me-not, almost immediately Fred and George popped out from behind the house-animal statues of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

"Snakeling!" One twin smirked. "How was-"

"-Hagrid?" the other finished, "I hope you didn't break any teeth?"

"A danger to your mouth, those cakes, and when winter kicks in-"

"-we'll warn you for free. The pumpkin pie has-"

" _secret_ ingredients that will upset your class schedule."

" _Hours_ on the loo." They finished together.

Harry rolled his eyes at their antics.

"I hear you turned Mrs Norris green on Wednesday? Pranking like Slytherin, I see."

"You don't have the-" One grinned.

"-monopoly on green." The other nodded. Not even trying to deny it. "Besides, we were aiming for yellow."

"Must have been the beetles-eyes. Should have gone for newt eyes."

"Harder to get." Harry butted in. "Snape keeps those in the seniors store."

The twins exchanged a nod. "we'll work on it."

" _Actually_ ," Harry said, "I had a theory on that, and about mixing with acids as opposed to fat. Now, if we add to the morning _bacon_ -"

 

It was hardly hard for Harry to break through Snape's wards, not when he would have only aimed them at students, and if the twins added a distraction, then he would be very unlikely to come under scrutiny… which would mean Harry could take the opportunity to _borrow_ a few _other_ potions supplies while he was there, for later in the year. Harry's trunk had a stais-store for ingredients ( _Vernon_ had 'felt' _generous_ , so Harry upgraded), and he had _plots_ for a few more pranks throughout the year.

Harry was still rather bitter at Snape, about potions …and several other things, obviously, but mainly potions. Al had _loved_ them, and Harry suspects that he could have too, if the man hadn't been a complete arse. His mother had been a protege of Slughorn's, after all, and that sort of things usually stuck around in the blood. Snape was hardly going to further Harry's potion education just because he had a secret-second go at it, so the twins would have to do. Their pranking potions were revolutionary, if you could see through the fart-humor and profit-focus. It would be a good build up, too, for Harry's plans for the ' _horrible Hogwarts standards'_ next year. He wasn't _entirely_ at Hogwarts again for amusement alone.

* * *

Gellert felt like Potter disappeared between one blink and the next.

" _Rude_."

Riddle rolled his eyes, and started stalking up towards the school in a huff. "Good riddance. What a waste of an evening. Still, if we hurry we can bully one of our dorm-mates into fetching a more edible meal from the kitchens for us, before curfew."

Gellert stretched his stride to catch up then match Riddle.

Gellert didn't feel like he had wasted his evening at _all_. Potter could joke all he wanted, but Gellert could see a profitable ally when it was put under his nose. Some of those ingredients were _valuable_. Not to mention the two interesting tid-bits of information. Gellert would bet the acromantula venom he was soon going to get his hands on that whatever it was that didn't quite get stolen from Gringotts was now in the forbidden corridor. He would _also_ bet that whatever it was was the reason the other two were at Hogwarts.

However, while curious, it wasn't _actually_ what interested Gellert most from the conversation. There was an opportunity for a non-suspicious starter-conversation.

"What was that whole thing about Mr Hagrid being keeper of Hogwart's Keys? Very strange."

Riddle huffed heavily through his nose. "Your _boyfriend_ lying through his teeth, as always. Probably just to make the half-breed feel important."

"So Hogwarts _only_ has wards then?" Gellert prompted.

Riddle narrowed his eyes at the obvious question, but Gellert put on a show of exasperation.

" _Durmstrang_ is entirely unplottable, and it has physical defenses, magical creature defenses, not to mention the castle is _far_ less flashy, more of a _fort_."

Riddle's eyes narrowed further, but he took the bait, so Gellert hardly cared.

"Hogwarts' wards are some of the _oldest_ in the _world_. Most asian countries use living wards, so while built first, they aren't _technically_ the same wards, more like a child-ward. But Hogwarts' wards were laid down by the four founders, and haven't been taken down since."

"That doesn't sound protective against modern spells." Gellert forced as much snootiness into his voice as he could manage. Riddle bristled instantly, just like Gellert planned.

"They have been added to by _numerous_ Headmasters, professors, and even _students_ over the years."

"Uhmhmmm." Gellert made a sceptical noise.

Riddle bristled even further. "Well _any_ wards can be broken, and, granted, Hogwarts has a pretty big weak point in that every student adds to the wards… but that _does_ _also_ strengthen her wards beyond what a mere wizard or two could _ever_ hope to build on their own."

Gellert almost tripped over his own feet in shock, but managed just in time to cover it up.

"But that would mean that every single student could break down the wards with just a powerful enough overload to a single point."

"Yeee-es," Riddle admitted, "though even with your precious Death Stick it was a damn _pain_ , let me tell you. Besides, It drained _me_ , so I think you will find that not just _any_ of the alumni could do it."

Wait, Riddle brought down Hogwart's wards? Gellert _really_ needed to corner Potter and hear their story at some point soon. It sounded like a doozy.

"You brought the wards down?"

"The brat was hiding inside them with something of _utmost_ value in his possession." Riddle hissed, scowling over his shoulder in the direction Potter ran off.

"Well that seems weak… the wards, I mean. Durmstrang hasn't been added to, for sure, but it would take a single wizard months to get a dent in."

"I had an advantage." Riddle defended.

"Being a founder's heir?" Gellert rolled his eyes, though admittedly it _was_ a fine claim.

" _No_. I've got a curse on the school."

"You've-…" Oh, now _that_ could work. Gellert was _excellent_ at curses, and if the wards were Agglutanitivious Wards, then he was in with a chance."

"Again, your _boyfriend_ was being _difficult_." Riddle smirked.

Gellert ignored the taunt. _Honestly_ , Albus had been _lovely_ in his youth, but he betrayed Gellert, first by abandoning their cause, and then the _duel_. What did Gellert care for him now, really?

Fortunately they had reached the common room, so Gellert could ditch the conversation, now that he had what he needed.

 

"To emulate and rival" Gellert announced, upon reaching the common room entrance. Both he and Riddle stepped forward, but instantly had to come to an abrupt halt when nothing happened.

Gellert blinked at the wall in confusion, his mind taking a second to process.

" _To emulate and rival!!_ " Gellert pronounced the password carefully, though with rather more force.

Nothing.

To Gellert's right, Riddle's temple pulsed, and he was obviously grinding his teeth.

"New password, then?" Gellert asked, though his anger easily showed through his false-cheer.

"Blishwick. A power play." Riddle sounded _far_ more like he had when he had come to kill Gellert in Nurmengard. His voice was deep and heavy with power, a slight lisp from parseltongue that only made the tone sound deadlier.

Oh. _Oh_. This could be _fun_.

"Hssshsaaah sasss SsSss-sha"

Gellert flicked his wand out as the door moved for the snake's tongue, presumably Salazar Slytherin left an over-ride.

 

Gellert didn't _actually_ care if the children thought themselves capable of being above him, he had never tolerated stupidity well, so as long as they didn't _act_ on it, they could think what they liked. Riddle was a lot more interested in status, however, and, admittedly, Gellert wouldn't stand for _Riddle_ thinking he was above Gellert. Gellert _knew_ that the children were below him. Riddle was a _threat_ , however, which was _different_. That wasn't to say he was opposed to ruling over the lower masses harmoniously while in the school.

"Shall we?" Gellert smirked, his own tone of voice a lot darker. He let his magic build up and flare up. It clashed horribly with Riddle's own, two Dark Lords generally didn't come into such close contact with killing intent… that being said, the thought of fighting _alongside_ another Dark Lord was… tantalising, actually.

Riddle didn't reply, but his own _Dark_ aura swirled in vicious agreement.

 

They stepped into the common room in tandem, and _instantly_ the room froze.

What _fun_.


End file.
